My poem

The Black Realization

The wind cuts through my skin,
I can feel it in my bones.
Drowsy, darkened, downed.
I can't stop moving,
The pain of each step reminds me that i'm still alive.
In all the hatred in the world,
Right now is where i'm at peace.
On the verge of death,
And I'm right where i need to be.
The world around me stopped,
I can see each and every fragment of existence
All around me, I visualize my life passing before me.
They say hell is fire
Hell is ice. It's not comfort, it's the realization within a dream.
It's the idea that you have to keep moving,
Seeing,
Understanding,
Living, in pain.
Death is not the outcome, it's the result.
You only wish that death was so easy, so simple, so possible.
In hell, you never truly die.
You keep living.
You keep moving.
In the cold,
Waiting...
Waiting for death...

-James Taylor Willis