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Personal Note:

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Poem


Run faster—looking back will be your downfall.
The screeching of the infected gains intensity.
Drag the razor wire barricade across blistering concrete—
scraping rusted metal, shards splintering into scorched oblivion.

Enter the valley of death, shadows playing tricks on your weary mind.
Searching for answers, your quest has begun.
Cityscapes metamorphose into deserted deserts.
Continue your path forward,
while an unrepentant sandstorm takes root.

Devious mirages tempt you to stray from your destination.
Talons of despair rip into ailing flesh,
causing vermilion blood to spray—
forming abstract patterns in screaming sand.

Tear strips of fabric from your tattered shirt.
Cover those wounds, gather your strength, and push forward.
The answers to why hell cracked open should be within reach.
It has to be—this can't be all for naught.

Infernos blazed the lands, while the Four Horsemen rode, shaking the earth.
Incessant suffering followed, until Death became welcomed with open arms.

Grabbing ahold of fraying senses,
into the unknown, through the archway you go.
Stricken by what you see, panic worms in.
Scribbled on the wall, your past self wrote:
“Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.”

You've been here before—no answers, just more crippling questions
of will this ever end?

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