• once, love was all that mattered to me, I was always sad, like now, wishing for a chance to be happy again in my Midnight Abyss, the Dark chamber in my mind where I protected thoughts I loved in my own way.
    Even though I paid no heed, I knew my crime and wished for death, how sad I was, lonely and troubled, how could I ask forgiveness for my crime to you, to the ones I love, I chose solitude after being crippled, death would be forgiveness, and it would be something that I would be proud of, for there is no cure for death.
    How could I make amends, this solitude is the only thing, making me whisper into my hands and sitting on my bed, wishing, wishing for a moment where I’m happy again. Don’t cry for me, my past had already made the cost, and the price of my exchange was equal. I made sure of that. Whatever I did in my past, no matter what you think of me, it’s completely over. Now a new future is at stake and my past is left in the Midnight Abyss.
    I hear the words of another chance on another world; I’ve taken blame and spent all the chances of mine which were meant for you, I was not the one to blame, to be hurt so was torture, neglect, and sadness. As I write I write of a world I wish I was in, one I want more than what this one could be. I want to be happy.
    I have my stone in my hand. The one thing that made me so much for so little, my exchange had nothing to do with it anymore, this rock, a bleeding rock, was the majority of my success, predictions, probability, exact exchange was not needed anymore. Equal or greater value was no were near the price for you, now my chance has come, to finally be at peace of something greater.
    For every body I went from, one to another, my soul was left behind, one by one, later will be mindless, but as evil as I hide. I’m not a good person, I’m not a kind soul, it’s easy to lie, it’s easy to remember, but it’s difficult to hide a evil person in a tainted body and have everyone think you’re a idiot that is equal to nothing, when you only have a mind that has so many …thoughts, and …desires. Many people think I’m a genius when I write, but only the ones that know I write. Money, fame, power, sex, murder, these are not the things that I enjoy writing about, but I’ll write them if I have to, what I enjoy writing is another world, a world that nobody would comprehend, a world that nobody can exist in yet everybody wants to be in. a world which death is ruled by a soul and each other is followed by their own government. Death would be swift for me if it wasn’t for my fake life that I pretend to be in. only a handful know how I really am, and each day I say to myself as I wake up. Don’t be stupid, or you will die.
    A hundred years will pass, and will I be remembered, for my writing? For my mind? What would I be remembered for, maybe my love that I want with you. Love, what do you think of me now, do you hate me, do you love me? Would you love me in the morning if we spent a sweet night? Our hands together and the doors closed from peeping eyes, a sweet love that can only be described in short outbursts of voice that makes you sound cute. A night with our lips locked and sweet, sweet findings in a subject that would have been avoided. How would you love me then? If we were to make do with what we have, and make our time wisely yet being so young it would be called a fool’s errand. A night with me, would that change how you think of me?

    Midnight Abyss, and the immortal lie.
    By: Michael Suratt Jr.