About The Man Who Lost The Rest Of His Life

Elegy Of A Psychopath

I feel the need to expand somewhat on my recent tight-lipped closure, find more words for what I feel. Here they come. I hope you can find in them a meaning of own.

When you spend 500 years on an island, you die more than once. So you think you’ve got used to it. You think you’ve got used to attending your own funerals, and listening to jeremiads. But they never fail to surprise you, both the circumstances of your death and the response of the Universe to it…

Elegy Of A Psychopath

I can’t unfeel that touch, that curly twist of ice and fire
I can’t unkiss that mouth, that whisper of profound desire
I can’t unsee those eyes, through fog and night they always see me
I can’t unhear those words, the confusion when my senses flee me

I can’t unthink those thoughts, the mocking fears doomed to discount me
I can’t withstand that urge, it never misses to surmount me
I can’t expel that push, that shadow of forecast disaster
I can’t prevent that act, my devil’s hand, my perish’s master

So here I stand, icebound, a flock of blame, a ghost of darkness
A doggone merc, unsound, cursed by blood on ancient parchements
I can’t unknow my deed, my demon rage quick to expound me
I can’t forget my shame, its fragrance will forever haunt me

This time, it’s different. This time, I can’t even begin to understand the extend of my loss. I have lost… the rest of my life. I destroyed it. In a blink of an eye.

And so the rest of my life will be empty, because all that it could have been, is now gone. Gone forever. And so shall I…