Vigilante Soul

The day I died was the day I watched everything burn away…

Standing before the only home I had ever known, all that remained was ash and smoke. Even the memories I once cherished were lost to me. The man that stood in a pile of cinder that night was a heartless husk.

Photos of loved ones were not the only things that withered away--my humanity was lost then as well. If only I could remember who I was. Now when I look in the mirror, all I see is a skeleton of a man. Sometimes I wonder if there’s even a heart beating in this thing I call a body.

The fighting seems never-ending, both in my head and on the streets. Every waking moment my mind is always back at the fire. Each time I blink, I’m a little boy standing in front of the open flame, wishing there was any escape from this Hell I find myself in--there never is.

My only solace is through my blood covered fists. Dark streets filled with terror and avarice, never-ending insanity consume me. Sometimes I wonder if I am a monster, or a man. My head immersed in darkness and deceit as my veins pulse with rage fueled blood.

When I stand in the abyss, I cut myself just to see if the blood is any less black than the darkness itself. I cut over and over again, but I can never tell. I keep trying to fight towards the light but it is an endless hallway with a small light at the end--one I never seem to be able to reach.

With every punch and strike I aim to gain back the light I’ve lost, but I find myself further into the depths of my own despair. Will this pain ever end? Can I atone for my sins and bring justice into this cruel world? I don’t know, but without the fighting and the pain I no longer remember who I am.

All I am is a shell formed from abuse and betrayal. If only I could claw my way out towards the sun. Just one look at it and I would be okay.

There is a memory that lets me sleep at night, a memory of a day before I became this beast. In my dreams I dwell in the comfort of the family I once had, only to awake to my eternal punishment--my one and only judgement I have been bestowed.

Sometimes I think of praying, but what good would that do? The only way to atone is to fight, keep fighting until I die--and even beyond that.

In the end, the only hope I have is the people around me. People who fight bathing in drowning light. If only I could be like them...one day...