The Lament of Doom

Something I wrote back in 2010 about a certain person. I think younger me did better writing than current old me. Not sure why it is titled “The Lament of Doom”.

You probably have no idea why I lost my temper and abruptly ended the conversation. Instead you will invent a theory from the omnipotent maelstrom you call reason. The effigy has already been constructed and the pyre assembled. You will divine my malign intent from failure to submit to the inquisition. Yet again I will burn. It is not only me; there are more for your righteous hate to consume. Though the world is dark, and evil, and ignorance reign supreme, there is hope. You are the Flame and The Guardian of the Bastion of Truth.

You, just and supreme, stand alone against the retarded tide of humanity that would drag us beneath the waves. You stand against greed and corruption and lies, imagining yourself up high, passing judgement on all the filth of the world – the perfect candidate for ruler of heaven and earth. Your myopic vision cleansed of the faintest hint of empathy, nothing would go uncorrected to fit the image you hold dear above all.

You have no idea of the suffering you represent. A martyr, a lord, a hypocrite. No compassion or love, only need and want – the manifestation of the blood drinking demon.

I can try to forgive you. You are what you are. But never pity. Never trust. Self-righteousness will only ever ensure a quick descent into conflict.

There is no escape and no reconcile. Living with you is a distant second best.

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