Journal of the Mad and Lost
By Jadecoyote
June 27th Arkham Asylum
My name is Edward Nygma, I am of sound mind as possible in an asylum. Mind and body in bondage
of loathing and whispers of unanswered questions. I always thought that there was almost an answer for
all things, to modern history to past disruptures. I was never one for these things but kept here has
been almost unbearable.
Standing in front of a mirror,
Seeing who I think I am,
I do not see myself,
What I do is good,
The things my reflection does is bad,
It kinda looks like me,
Made from the same,
From the blood of our creator,
I find he is my reflection,
Doing opposite that I do,
As I try to make peace,
Her is degenerate and causes pain,
My life is my reflection.
Forever in the strain of time
Crimes commited to solve the greatest riddles of all. There will be a time for these things of course. So
I sit here paying my debt to society. The other inmates have no idea what is before them. Once
everything is out in the open it will be clear to all. I know this. Well journal these things we call passing
days wax upon my heart like the moon seen clearly from my window. to deam a forgotten deam.
Edward Nygma once known as the Riddler closes his diary placed against his lap. Letting out a
soft breath he shakes his head a little, the light reflection on hsi fine chisled features. moving his hand up
the slender digits of his fingers move threw his auburn hair. It was night and the lights had been turned off.
Sitting at the edge of the bed his thoughts scattered among the stars waiting for the next day to come....
(More To come Soon)