This war will end

March 3, 2010
By Anonymous

Treacherous paths are marked before my feet, as I gaze at through the misty air. They are dangerous. I must be strong, I must be willing; I must stand.

I am forced to back down once again by the subconscious voice in my head, scarring my drive, killing my will to move on.

I find myself drifting back to my own secluded mind, suppressing the thoughts within me, the thoughts that need to escape. Fear is my enemy. Fear that I will descend soon into the ground beneath myself, without having any say. It's there, it's always there, it is only a fog that congests my mind, and continues to worry me.

Once again I try to walk the paths of war, and once again, I fail. I get half way before I freeze, petrified. It chills my body, and the stars feel like eyes, watching me, pushing me, eating away my soul.

These cold eyes put a bullet to my happiness, and once again I am enraged. This time, I will be strong, I will be willing; I will stand. I will overcome that taunting voice, screaming within the dark corridors of my brain, and I will fight. I will walk the path of destruction, and if I don't make it out alive, so be it. I will lash out; forcing myself to show everything I've hid for so long.

I will try to cripple your self-centered, abusive, miserable excuse for a brain, and I will win.

Mark my words, I'll win this war;
I will stand.

The author's comments:
Family problems.
That's all anyone needs to know.

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