A Christmas MassacreHeavy breathing fills the air.More Like This
I pant. Light peaceful Christmas music fills the atmosphere.
Where am I? Who am I? Is this a dream?
If so, why can't I awaken? Where are my shoes?
Why is there blood on my hands?
Brief yelling is heard from behind.
I turn. No one is there.
A blood trail glows. I follow.
I can fill my heartbeat pound throughout my chest,
as if it was merely trying to escape.
But from what? What's happening?
What am I doing? Is this a dream?
I feel like lucid. So, unreal.
As if I'm no longer in control of my own body.
What is this? Why am I holding a gun.
I stop. I try to think cordially, but I can't.
What is wrong with me? Where am I?
Is this a dream? Am I sleeping?
I feel a sharp pain illuminate throughout my body.
I've seemed to have stepped on a shard of glass.
Um? It's not a normal piece of glass either.
It's from a pair of glasses, but whom?
I turn. More yells from a distance is heard.
Immortal.The human soul is immortal.More Like This
It cannot be destroyed.
So when a human "dies,"
They only depart from the body,
In a shedding-like manner.
...Therefore, "death" is nonexistent.