PILLS AND POISON (Part 1)

I am a steam train set and traversing unstoppable on it's path. My eyes are bloodshot in fury, my feet shuffle like the reciprocating pistons, certain and guided on its track, my head boils up in rage exhausting steam and smoke from my ears; my teeth rattle and sparks like the steel track. Anger had taken the better part of my existence.

"Take me to the bus stop." I said as I lifted my leg to sit on the motorcycle that awaited. As the engine rumbled and ready to depart, a staff rushed to me, "Your father calls for you."

"My Father calls for me." I replied as I tapped the cyclist to signal for our take off.

I preferred to sit alone in the van. My head leaned and pressed on the van's window; my eyes fixed, teary and hypnotized by the dashing lines on the road. All this while I was immersed in the world of the voices my ears were listening to both from my soul speaking and from the songs on my audio player. "Hello, Darkness my old friend..." The Sound of Silence.

As cancer grows so did my stored emotions grow deep within me eating out every bit of remorse, virtues, knowledge and spirituality so instilled from a young age. I was dead long before. This would be but just the final nail to the box.

My hands couldn't hold the walls as the dam of tears burst out my eyes as I walked to the house. 'This is it. I'll be gone for good.' A bead of thought fell off the string bringing out beads of more thoughts. 'I'll leave this world. No more quarrels and fights.' 'Slit your wrist, sit back and watch the misery fade.' 'Hang yourself and let the suffering weigh you down.' 'Cast thyself down the balcony: for it is written, He shall give his angels charge...make it dramatic and do a flip.' I chuckled because even in death I didn't lack humor. 'Pills and poison.' Final thought.

My hand stretched out to the end of the medicine cupboard and wiped off all pills it could reach to while my other hand opened wide to hold onto the drugs it could get hold of as some escaped to land on the floor. I topped this up with a rat and roach poison. My palm now full, the other hand grabbed a glass of water, fuel for my journey.

Death caused by oneself was considered noble and honorable in early medieval centuries when a knight was out-numbered or overwhelmed by the enemy in battle. Why would it be considered otherwise in this case?

I sat in my bedroom, my eyes open and fixed to the wall.

Pills and poison,

clenched in my fist.

A glass of water, a beverage for this feast.

Quench my thirst.

Thirst to a release of my soul's prison.

Thirst to freedom.

Thirst to peace.

Life's a journey and this is my stop. I alighted my bus of life, stood lone in a new world and watched my bus of life crawl off. A roaring creature in the dark, with fumes and fire, like the hell it had been. In the moment of the fading of time and things, seven subtle voices sang in a motet. I watched my old world lose clarity in sight and fade in darkness. The angelic voices sang as my eyelids closed slowly; curtains at the end of an act. In a rise of the voices I heard their harmonious prolonged ending words, "Dormi ora bambino (Sleep now child) ". Then silence. I fell back. My arms wide open. My eyes closed.