"From the ashes I rise"   by Devar (jopa70@lycos.com)

Hatred swells into my stomach,

I feel a deep current of air going down as I breathe,

Every breath more harder, heavier, deeper, darker,

I feel my eyes burn with fire,   

the veins, popping from my forehead,

bringing red, hot blood to my brain,     

making me explode with rage. 

I am not myself anymore.

I don't feel anymore.

I act numb to feeling.

I need to kill.

I need someone's blood in my hands,  

to feed myself with it, with their essence,         

of the innocent and the unprotected,                

of my foes, of the so called "friends", of the ones I hate,

I now only obey my Master.                           

Happiness and love are no longer part of me,

I will never feel those warm emotions anymore,

memories, of a distant, forgotten past,                   

of pain and suffering for the ones I loved,                    

the impossible pair, the mother's death,                      

the child's destiny, the followed path.

Fear is my ally, the domination tool,                

the Dark Side, my caring father,                      

I will never trust anyone again.                        

The only justice in which I believe is the one given with my lightsaber,             

its cold, red glow, slashing anyone who contradicts me to their deaths.            

I want everyone to know me, to fear me,                    

I will be their nightmare, the black shadow around every corner,    

waiting silently in the darkness for them.                                  

My body is now useless, a living scar,                                    

reminding me daily of the false master,                                                             

the traitor, the real enemy,

the one who murdered his own student,          

he was like a father to me.

The so called Jedi, the unseen threat.

I can feel my Master's servants tearing off my limbs,

I can't feel them anymore.                   

My chest; forever enclosed in a respirator suit.

My new arms; stronger than the real ones.      

I see for the last time with my own eyes,

and feel the coldness of the metal mask on my face. 

The connections making blood to come out,                           

but it doesn't hurt. Instead, it feels comforting.            

I am now complete. I put the gloves over my hands,   

arrange my cape, give the first breath of my new life,   

no one will ever obstruct my way, I will be respected.           

Who I am now? I'm not sure.                                                

I feel the same, but different somehow.

 I am Ana… No! That never can no longer mean anything to me!

Anakin Skywalker is my past and it will be buried along the other things:

the emotions, the feelings, the memories.

From the ashes, I rise, to serve my Master,                            

I am a Dark Lord of the Sith,                                                 

I am Darth Vader!