Purgatory
We’re everywhere
Lost in the field of vision of the living
Shadowy, held in check by the veil
We peer through the shifting cracks
Long forgotten rips left unsewn
Casualties from a forgotten war
Most small enough for a glimpse
Some wide enough to offer passage
Often just a splinter of light, no more
From every vantage point
We watch as you exist in that light
Jealous, often treacherous thoughts
Building mercilessly with time
Our hunger drives us to brazen ways
Endless hours, endless days, endlessness
No release from the addiction
The cure nonexistent
Mortality opposes us
We’ve seen both sides
Regretful of moments wasted
Actions that condemned the soul
Scornful of too soon a reaping
Our prison is called darkness
Death, is but the beginning
Eternity the sentence
We’ve all heard about the place called purgatory; the place that supposedly exists in-between the two world’s of the dead. A place where souls are trapped, waiting for an unspecific time to be purified and enter paradise, or to be finally disposed of in the pits of hell. Those who haven’t died in a state of grace or a state of evil are destined to spend eons waiting and wandering in a nondescript place, surrounded by others of like situations. Some claim the torturous wait is worse than hell itself as the window to the world of the living is revealed, but just a sliver. That alone is enough to drive the souls to a heightened and sustained state of borderline insanity.
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