Disclaimer: I do not own Everworld. Nor do I own Jalil or his obsessive-compulsiveness.

Author's Note: I dunno where I got the idea for this. I wrote it at like 1:00 in the morning when I couldn't sleep, so it's not that great of a poem. I know that it's kinda weird and dumb… no, it's very weird and dumb, so please don't flame me. Jalil is my second favourite character (the one and only David Levin being first, of course). I love Jalil, but I love David more. =) So go read my weirdo poem now and tell me what you think… hope you like it.

Relentless Repulsive Impulse

By, RadioactiveSquirl

I see the black spot;

It isn't very big.

I know too much can harm me,

But it's just a little bit.

So I take a little,

Not thinking it will have impact.

But I am wrong.

Nothing immediate happens,

Of course.

But soon, oh soon,

A little more comes.

And more.

And more.

I unknowingly take more,

Not realizing that it's there.

It just comes,

I just take it.

Then I realize what I am doing.

What am I doing?

Oh foolish, foolish one am I.

Why do I do it?

I'm sorry.

I wish to stop.

But since when do wishes come true?

Can this be forgiven?

Is it even wrong?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

If it is forgiven,

What next?

Forgive myself?

That's hard.

It's the hardest thing to do,

To forgive oneself.

Forgive yourself.

Forgive myself.

How can I?

When I cannot be clean

When I cannot wash the grime away

How can I when this blackness,

This darkness has engulfed me?

How can I live with myself?

How can I live?

With what I have done

That knowledge

Too much to bear

What have I done?

Why has it been done?

I don't know the answers to my own questions,

My own intentions.

I am young and stupid.

The impulse comes,

I go with it.

Not knowing the difference

Between instinct and impulse,

This repulsive impulse.

I see my hands,

Ugly and dirty but unique.

Unique with this stain,

This dark spot,

This.

I hate to look at them, my hands.

I hate their filthiness, their ugliness.

I hate the stain,

But love it unknowingly, unintentionally.

I hate to look at them.

But maybe I deserve this pain.

Maybe I deserve to see them so ugly and dirty.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

But still…

The black spot comes.

Again, it is small at first.

This little bit shouldn't harm me,

But I look at what it's done before.

I look at what I've done.

To myself

To others

That black spot remains.

Taunting me

Teasing

I turn

I run

No more, no more

I want no more

The darkness chases after me.

But still

I run on

Away from it

No more stupid, youthful mistakes,

My young stupidity.

The darkness follows.

But I run

I stay away

It lingers,

Like a black, heavy fog,

Whispering temptations in my ear.

But I ignore

I walk away

I run

But still, it comes

Relentless

I cry

I give in

To the demon

The demon that is my own mind

It never washes off

It never goes away

Does it?

No.

No

It is relentless

This…

Relentless…

Repulsive…

Impulse…