Godforsaken Land
As I stare out upon the wasted landscape, I know this to be my final resting place.
There is no hope for the good.
There is no sleep for the evil.
The bodies of my victims litter the sand.
Does anyone deserve such a wretched end?
Looking down the barrel of the gun they once held, a face smiling behind it.
They call them the Psychos, but aren't I the one who set fire to them?
Shot them, burned them, ruined their small civilizations?
Sure, call them savages, but aren't you?
You supplied them with the weapons, and you expect them not to hunt you?
I suppose it's the price we pay for fame.
The fame... that's why we did it.
Endless fame, endless fortune.
Technology beyond our wildest dreams.
The Vault of the Eridians.
I suppose it could have been reason enough to trek this wasteland.
The place forsaken by god, where only he can see the grace in it.
I ask for a drink, to which the bartender replies, "No good. No water."
I swear, and nod.
It made sense, as the only water on this planet is boiling or polluted.
They call it Pandora.
I call it Hell.