Clockwork Green's blog: "The Poems..."

I ask my myself nightly, Why Not? Why not just not come tomorrow? Why not just not pay my loans? Why not just kill myself? Is there something I am keeping myself here for? Is there a reason for any of this? Becursed with a foolish heart that still believes in Love. Love. Love. The word upon which our life hinged. Finally unhinged. Finally undone. Final stop. All passengers must disembark. Wakey wakey… Time to die. Hey all. I have to leave now. You have all been so nice. You all treated me far better than I ever deserved. As it seems though, I have not reciprocated anything back. In fact, it seems I took advantage of all. I am not a good friend. I am not even a good human. Perhaps if I give my energy and chemicals back to the universe they can recycle me into something useful. Maybe a nice plant of some sort. I tried my best, but as usual this was not even CLOSE to good enough. Remember, sympathy comes between Shit and Syphilis. That is where I now belong. Death will not come get me. God has forgotten me. I guess I need to send myself back to the sulfur pit of Hell that spawned me. Beelzebub wanted a soldier and he got me. Granted, I am not a mass murderer, but my soul is dark, lost, and twisted. Love is something I will never know, yet it is all I think about. Do not mourn me. Do not remember me. To do so will only give me power in Hell. Do not let me complete my fate. I always knew I would be in the front of Armageddon, but I thought on the side of Good. I guess just as there was to be an Anti-Christ born of man, why not an Anti-Michael born of man? That is who I am. The Anti-Michael. Wings, swords, arms, shields… all clash in the blood clad clouds. Angel upon angel. Mortal upon mortal. Two shall clash and the struggle will determine all. Michael, who is like God? Born of God will fight Michael, who is like God? Born of man will fight. The fight will rage as all watch. Angel strikes. Mortal strikes. Angel bleeds. Mortal bleeds. One falls, one rises. Whose sword shall prevail? Only John saw this. He never reported. Wakey, wakey… Time to fly.