A Mourner's Coronation

Yesterday arrived with a certain guilt. Pain reared its head like a mighty cyclops and gazed at me with an intensity unmatched. Slowly, I spiralled down the halls of anguish with a dying hope that you would save me. That a hand will tear apart the surface, hold me and cease my downward slide.

That hand never came and I found myself in my own psyche, swathed in perdition. An impending ceremony of my coronation came through and thus was I crowned a king. The king of perdition. The only witnesses present were my memories, my thoughts, my plans, all of which were dead. In a corner, my soul stood mourning over my new found pleasure.

Thusforth, I sat in solitude. Oblivion shrouded me while I sat and stared into nothingness. Thinking about my self. My future. There was no future, nor was any self left which could be salvaged from this dying wreck. Aeons passed me by as travellers unaware of the roadside beggar they just trampled.

Today, I claim my freedom. As the righteous king of perdition that I am, I ask you to return the pain that was originally mine. Killing any possible hope of redemption, I ask you to strip me naked of all vanity and shroud me with the thorny veil of inferno. Let me be with my kingdom, which is ever growing and there are many tasks to be accomplished. There are virtues to be conquered, held captive and executed. There are vices to be befriended. There are more thorns to be added to my blazing veil.

Now, I must take my leave. Twilight is approaching and a never ending road into purgatory awaits.