To whom this may concern.

To whom this may concern:

The End is nigh…

Forlorn I know. Depressing beginnings were never my favorites to hear of either, but it seems such a choice for alternative isn’t a luxury I should have. Not this late in the game, not anymore. You see this very moment my life has already begun its end, my summation in this world is commencing. ‘The’ end is nigh. More truthfully; ‘My’ end is nigh. But I did not go about putting this down in words, for you to merely mourn my passing and grieve my demise. I care not for the trivialities of pride; I could care no less if my very existence went by completely unmarked and unnoticed. And I note that with complete sincerity. Yet there is however, a burden my dying soul wishes to bear no longer. I have no fear for what unknown awaits me in this passing, only the fear that what I need said in this life goes unknown, to one.

For if I were to die now, without even such an attempt as to letting you know. My death would feel as though it were ten hundred thousand deaths. Because so many times I’d died before in this life, and arguably living as a corpse; until the day I found her. And everything changed. I can imagine a breed unlike myself, perceiving these words as the poetic ramblings of a barmy simpleton knocking on death’s door. Trying to give his otherwise meaningless life ‘some’ deluded significance in parchment, for in the reality of life there was naught. I cannot argue the fact that while my life meets its end and I share the woe of my plight, it is ‘insignificant’. I can argue I’ve never known any different, and it is in fact the severity of ‘my’ world that I speak of. For this ‘is’ its finale, significant or not.

I can’t begin to explain the circumstances that led to these morbid events. I haven’t the heart to describe to you the crimson pools that adorn this cell; I can say only that I lived a life many stray from. A path untaken or better avoided by most who value their eternal soul. A life filled with sickly sights, grim dealings and countless sleepless nights. Yet I care not to discuss the cruelties of my past, nor the sins I ‘should’ be repenting for. There is but one regret. The greatest mistake I ever made was giving up the greatest treasure this world had to offer. I speak nothing of lust, bodies can decay, and flesh grows cold. We each are given one chance at true, everlasting love in this life time. As each are given just one soul, and only one life to barter it with.

It’s a strange thing, really. I had never spoken these feelings outside of my mind for nearly three decades and here I am making the annunciation in my last earthly account. You can spend so long denying yourself sentimentality, sheathing yourself and running from what really matters. But in the end perspective is unveiled by the lies you deceived yourself with in life, the things that mattered and the things that should have been, sere into your being like a knife etched into a coffin. She’ll never know I did this for her this evening, just like the day I last saw her, the day I abandoned her.

I knew if I remained in her life, dark days were sure to follow. I denied myself her love, a portal to nirvana a condemned soul the likes of myself would find no where else. I long fought to bore the memory of her beauty from my recollection because her loveliness was a poison in my veins. A day never passed without her wandering the darkest depths of my mind, a day never passed where regret was not a lingering feeling, a looming lump in my culpable throat. I could have suffocated myself I was so choked up on my fixation of right and wrong. Never giving any thought that this day might come, the day where I’d admit the truth to myself.

For after all, it is the truth that sets us free. With that being said however, I feel no freer, for I’ve known the truth long before this day. The truth, the ‘truth’ is I’m writing this in the hope, the most foolish, far-fetched, ridiculous, most absurd of hope that in some fluke of fate, admitting this may undo the long years wasted without her. Part of me wishes I could let her know such long reserved feelings and another would rather she’d long forgotten me so that the knowledge of my death would cause her no pain.

I know now, here as my energy fades, that no such luck should find me. There’s no peace awaiting me; just the boat-man and the old river Styx. I can leave but one, one single thing of value on this earth. My Legacy some might say. You can search endless eons for a meaning, and even longer for an answer. You can own everything and care for nothing. You can kill, you can destroy, and you can lead a life of guiltless treachery. But it accounts for absolutely nothing in the eternal world. I leave this mortal realm, in misery and I give to you the one thing I have to give: my warning.

Forget your quarrels, your hatred. And for god’s sake forget your pride. Just find her… Find your companion. Your missing piece. Live a union I could not… Now I would wish to hope your love, which lingers or surmounts in time to come, soars as fierce and unbridled as the love I hold for my… soul beloved. But by the time you finish reading this, certainty would dictate; my love, alike anything else I once felt, along with my being will have long perished from this place. My one comfort however, in all of this. Is that now, when they find this corpse. Not only will they learn that I was in fact the guilty one. I did kill, every last one of them that wronged her. But you, you will know… that I loved your mother, more than anything or anyone I’d ever known in the course of this grim, abhorrent life time.

And that while I wanted to see you and watch over you: I am not sorry you never met me.