chaosboy

Bleak Dying. Hear my cry. Save me. I'm falling, falling, Into a bottomless abyss. Help. Save me. My hand, Extended it stays. I feel nothing. Not the touch of your hand. Nothing. Cold, still air. I fall. This is the end; I feel my life fading, As though it did not exist. End this, this endless torture, this hateful abyss. Leave me. Shaken, I wipe the sweat from my brow, And fade again. Black.

Torn Life; Beautiful, yet cold and ugly. People; Kind and caring, yet cruel and disrespectful. Beauty itself, Often seems ugly, In light of all this hate. If it doesn't end now, For us, It's to late. I want to love you, I want to hate you, I want to kiss you, I want to rape you. My body intact, My soul must be scorned, I'm thankful for my body, But my soul is torn. Chris Serio.

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Into the void Chris Serio 1 To Nicholas Smith, life seemed utterly pointless. His day's consisted of the same, monotonous, almost mechanical, events. He woke up, showered, went to work, watched his day waste away in front of his eyes, go home, and sleep in his twentieth century style home. The world seemed a bleak and boring story, in which nothing happened. His friends seldom visited him, his family was non-existent in his life, his wife had left him and to top it all off, he hated his job. Hate wasn't a strong enough word. Despised would be more like it. Sitting at a desk, filling out papers, defending people he didn't know, allowing k