The past,
it cared little for him
and so he passed into the night.
His ashes spread slowly
whipping in the gentle breeze of the full moon. His life,
his failures became lost in the sea of time.
He too was only but a vague memory,
a lost soul to those he once knew.
His pain, it would only endure,
it would grow and become ever lasting.

And I, stepping in just when he cracked,
the pinnacle of his exstacy.
My precious puppet,
to my twisted ways was he turned to show him
the pleasure of his pain.
My greatest accomplishment,
I nurtured him, cared and tended to his wounds.
And I, stepping through his ashes and rising when he fell.

This.
This is my creation, my perfection.

07/04/2006

Author's Note: Reincarnation literally means "to be made flesh again". This one is for my brother... who has transformed himself in front of my very own eyes.

Posted on 07/04/2006
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