Disclaimer: No X is mine.
Dark Kamui's POV. he wonders of his happiness and of the choice that was not offered to him. Oh, the unfairness.
--Soon, I'm alone.
Soon, everyone will be alone.
The whispers of a shattered dream, a tattered smile. They fade in the darkness of the night. It weaves its hood around me, a lying shroud. It comforts me, the lies, and the darkness. The warmth it provides stems from my depression, the sadness.
I wander the streets for a trace of meaning. As I look at my reflection in mirrors, I stare. The hardened lines, not a single trace of a happy smile. It makes me cringe. I see cynicism in its simplest forms, I see disbelief.
The question "Am I happy?"
I laugh. The laughter comes, uncontrollable at times. I laugh so hard I cannot stop, and people passing by who are suddenly struck with the odd bout of concern ask me what is wrong. I never respond, choosing to laugh harder. I do not know the reason I laugh, perhaps it is the stupidity of humanity. I neither know nor really give a damn.
Their so-called advancements will be their downfall.
I touch my chest, trying to feel the faint murmurs of my heartbeat. I do that to reassure myself that I am one of the living and not one of the dead. The pulsating beat makes my mind swim, and I am lost in the sensation of life. It lasts no longer than a minute. The giddiness and the loss of control as I give in to the feeling make me push on with life.
I have nothing else.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
So what if I choose to gain nothing? To venture into un-chartered territory has never been my style. I chose the safe side. And then I lost the sense of security. When one road is blocked, a person turns to the other side.
The question "Am I happy?"
The dark always tempts the light. Its enticing nature, the unreliability. It draws the good like a moth to a flame and as the story goes, the moth ultimately flies to its doom. I try not to mimic the moth in every aspect. Yes, I fly to the other side, the side lacking of comfort and security, but I do not intend to perish. I intend to win.
Such optimism in such unrealistic situations.
Such hope.
In times like this, I need the good. I need to know that there is good in this world. Without good, there would not be bad. There would not be me. Are we merely puppets moved by an unseen hand that determines our future? I hope not. I need to know that there is a heaven, and a hell.
The saints go to heaven and the sinners to hell.
Open the gates of hell for me then, welcome me with open arms. I embrace the flames, it is what I wish. The darkness corrupts, and the sins multiply. They rear their ugly head and I leer back. The death toll mounts and I see the blood on my hands. It's exhilarating.
The question "Am I happy?"
The uselessness of everything amuses me. I am convinced that I was born just to punish and bring unhappiness. I had no choice and that burns. It hurts that I was just meant to fill a spot. Why give humanity a chance at survival when it does not deserve even a miniscule of a chance? I realize that is the beauty of life. To see humans scurry around, trying their darn hardest to top the food chain, and know that in an instance I can crush their dreams is amusing.
I can feel the darkness creeping up, and I want to give up the fight. I do give up the fight. After all, it is meaningless to fight against evil. Evil always wins. Power always corrupts. Both traits I have in abundance.
The question "Am I happy?"
I laugh and say, "Most definitely." --
-end-
Note: this is weird, even for me. It's basically Fuuma's whole view of life when he becomes the Dark Kamui and creates havoc. I don't know if this is OOC or what, but I know it's a little depressing and angsty. So be kind with the reviews. It's just a break from my usual style? But review anyway, because I feel that I might be taking a break from writing fanfiction quite soon. Not sure.
Dark Kamui's POV. he wonders of his happiness and of the choice that was not offered to him. Oh, the unfairness.
--Soon, I'm alone.
Soon, everyone will be alone.
The whispers of a shattered dream, a tattered smile. They fade in the darkness of the night. It weaves its hood around me, a lying shroud. It comforts me, the lies, and the darkness. The warmth it provides stems from my depression, the sadness.
I wander the streets for a trace of meaning. As I look at my reflection in mirrors, I stare. The hardened lines, not a single trace of a happy smile. It makes me cringe. I see cynicism in its simplest forms, I see disbelief.
The question "Am I happy?"
I laugh. The laughter comes, uncontrollable at times. I laugh so hard I cannot stop, and people passing by who are suddenly struck with the odd bout of concern ask me what is wrong. I never respond, choosing to laugh harder. I do not know the reason I laugh, perhaps it is the stupidity of humanity. I neither know nor really give a damn.
Their so-called advancements will be their downfall.
I touch my chest, trying to feel the faint murmurs of my heartbeat. I do that to reassure myself that I am one of the living and not one of the dead. The pulsating beat makes my mind swim, and I am lost in the sensation of life. It lasts no longer than a minute. The giddiness and the loss of control as I give in to the feeling make me push on with life.
I have nothing else.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
So what if I choose to gain nothing? To venture into un-chartered territory has never been my style. I chose the safe side. And then I lost the sense of security. When one road is blocked, a person turns to the other side.
The question "Am I happy?"
The dark always tempts the light. Its enticing nature, the unreliability. It draws the good like a moth to a flame and as the story goes, the moth ultimately flies to its doom. I try not to mimic the moth in every aspect. Yes, I fly to the other side, the side lacking of comfort and security, but I do not intend to perish. I intend to win.
Such optimism in such unrealistic situations.
Such hope.
In times like this, I need the good. I need to know that there is good in this world. Without good, there would not be bad. There would not be me. Are we merely puppets moved by an unseen hand that determines our future? I hope not. I need to know that there is a heaven, and a hell.
The saints go to heaven and the sinners to hell.
Open the gates of hell for me then, welcome me with open arms. I embrace the flames, it is what I wish. The darkness corrupts, and the sins multiply. They rear their ugly head and I leer back. The death toll mounts and I see the blood on my hands. It's exhilarating.
The question "Am I happy?"
The uselessness of everything amuses me. I am convinced that I was born just to punish and bring unhappiness. I had no choice and that burns. It hurts that I was just meant to fill a spot. Why give humanity a chance at survival when it does not deserve even a miniscule of a chance? I realize that is the beauty of life. To see humans scurry around, trying their darn hardest to top the food chain, and know that in an instance I can crush their dreams is amusing.
I can feel the darkness creeping up, and I want to give up the fight. I do give up the fight. After all, it is meaningless to fight against evil. Evil always wins. Power always corrupts. Both traits I have in abundance.
The question "Am I happy?"
I laugh and say, "Most definitely." --
-end-
Note: this is weird, even for me. It's basically Fuuma's whole view of life when he becomes the Dark Kamui and creates havoc. I don't know if this is OOC or what, but I know it's a little depressing and angsty. So be kind with the reviews. It's just a break from my usual style? But review anyway, because I feel that I might be taking a break from writing fanfiction quite soon. Not sure.