i have no name, no face, no identity.
i am ismail's axe and i shatter serenity.
narcissism as a gift to all the drama queens.
i'll make you bleed the way you did me.
tremble at what i inflict. my personal prison
atrophied atrocity with sinister cynicism.
i am the light and the way, i shine like a prism.
hallways into catacombs, manifesting my vision.
you can't understand the wars i waged
long before this final battle. i could not be saved.
curling yellow skull fragments freed me of my chains.
i got my wings just after my eyes glazed.
isolated, i watch all of your heads nod.
affirmitive reaction to the blowback, you snobs.
on a morning cold as my calculations and thoughts,
i am the arm of the devil wielding the hammer of god.
Author notes
in case it isn't obvious, this is about the kid who shot up virginia tech. i attempted to go inside his obviously disturbed head and write from that perspective. it was hard because, even with everything that's been reported on the news, even with the rant he sent to nbc, there really isn't an answer. there's barely a twisted justification from his own mouth. i wondered what he would say if you could ask him why from beyond the grave. and for some reason, it rhymes (sort of). i don't know why i did that, it just kind of started out that way and i decided to continue it. i guess slant rhyme is a symptom of psychosis?
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