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The River
There is a river in my world. It is darker then my dead soul. Forever poisoned by never knowing the truth. The truth of existence. I walk slowly up to my river. It slowly starts to boil. The boiling is the screaming of a million people with lives wishing they could have more. It sickens me to hear. Why do they need more then life? That was Gods gift to them. The living are so selfish. They all should suffer the terrible fate I have bestowed upon me. I can not pray to be set free for my lips are stone. I can not even wish. All I can do to help these selfish rats is end this so called "misery". Why do they ask more of God when all they need is right in front of them?
I will end most there lives right now, but the rest will suffer a long slow cruel death. Serves them right for there stupidity.
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