My brain fell out of the sky. It landed somewhere between hell and its yawning shadow – right between the stepsisters of fear and immortality. When I screamed, nobody listened. They kept on reading, devouring the contents of newspaper and tablet, consumed by the bitter trivialities of our kind.
I have accepted my fate. There are parts of me that nobody wants – parts that are rotten and cold, a fictional villain rejected in a love story for fools. What hope remains? This diabolical flame burns bright. It burns on the fuel of vanity, a smoking-gun crime scene choking out the best parts of your dream.
These sparks of intellect have died, neurotic charges no longer connecting hand with heart or mind. They have withered inward, a rose upon the cross which crumbles in the breeze. Unearthed here are my bones, gentle fragments of yesterday cloaked in muscle and might, of men and arrogant nations who soiled the earth with greed.
When will they learn? When will any of us learn? Never – but that is the error of my ways. I am a failure, a broken man with no brain, a fallen angel who robbed the heavens for single every penny. If you look into deep night sky, you just might see my shooting star… a cosmic inferno streaking away into particles of nothing. Just don't stare for too long, you might end up blind.