Archive for soul

Death’s Wish

Posted in Fantasy Stories, Love Stories, Sad Stories, Stories with tags , , , , on April 8, 2014 by Myra's Circle

Death is the most infinite thing to ever exist.  I should know.  I am Death.  And this is the story of the woman I loved.

I first met her in Spring, when the warmth was hopeful and flowers unfurled their sleepy limbs and opened their eyes into the sun.  I was there long before the kill.  I watched her chase him, gun in hand, waiting for a clear shot.  I waited with her.  At the time, it was nothing, I hadn’t seen before.  It was just my job.  Nothing more.  There was a resounding bang, and then a dull thud.  She stood over the man’s lifeless body, and didn’t cry.  She didn’t panic.  She just stood there, emotionless, as she stared at his wide, unblinking eyes.  Her first kill.  I almost forgot to do my job, with her standing there, full of unadulterated courage and beauty.  I could tell she was sad too, though.  I could smell the toxic scent of unhappiness in the air.  I leaned over the body, and touched the man’s still-warm forehead.  His face began to glow, and his wispy soul drifted from his body.  I inhaled it and smiled, at both the good and the bad the soul contained.  His soul was sweet and sour at the same time, which wasn’t an unpleasant taste.  Yes, I know I shouldn’t spoil your ending, but that’s what happens when you die.  No Heaven, or Hell, there’s just me.  Me and my impossible hunger.  But anyway, onto more pleasant things.
I watched her that night.  It wasn’t my place – it was against every law – but I didn’t care.  I was much too curious for my own good.  It’s one of my existential flaws.  I was curious about her, about her life, and though I knew there would be more murders to be done by her hand, I didn’t want to wait.  Waiting was all I ever did.  Waiting got boring.
I watched her walk home and lock the door, and make tea.  I watched her slowly break down when she thought nobody was watching.  I watched with interest.  She wasn’t the first murderer I’d encountered.  She wasn’t even the first one with feelings.  I was simply and inevitably drawn to her, pulled by an invisible rope that could never be touched or described.  I watched her for a few more minutes before I left.  I had a job to do, and I was getting hungry.

It was a long time before I saw her again.  A year and a half, I believe it was, in mortal years.  the winter had set in, the air crunching like the crisp leaves of Autumn, and the flowers closed their eyes and waited for the sweet regales of spring.  I felt her presence before I saw her – it felt composed, calm.  Completely unlike that of whom she was pursuing.  It was a woman this time, her fear acrid and pungent in the cold air.  I saw the knife before she did, in the hands of an expertly trained killer.  The unfortunate victim didn’t even have time to squeak as the knife was thrust into her, then twisted in a perfectly executed manoeuvre.  The killer remained a little longer this time, her hand reaching into the victims pocket.  She pulled out a hard, dull object.  She turned and left, not caring who found the body, because she’d been clever.  She’d taken precautions.  There was no one left in that place to find it.  I inhaled and did my job, trying not to enjoy the rich taste of the deceased soul.  My eyes were fixed on the hole the woman had left, the gap that could only be bridged by her unerring presence.  I knew her hands would shake as she lifted the teacup to her trembling lips, how heavy it would feel in her bloodstained hands.  I knew she had made another hole in herself, perhaps greater than that in any other.  I looked down at the body in front of me and felt no pity.  I was incapable of such an emotion.  But Il felt something else – another stirring in the heart of a soulless being, a gap inside my supposed heart.  It was a nameless emotion, without purpose or logic.  It was simply there.  I shook my head, trying to clear it, and moved on to my next job.

The next time I saw her was the last.  She was running, not after something, but from it.  Me.  it was time.  Order had to be restored, justice to be carried out.  She needed to face the consequences.  Almost as suddenly as she had started running, she stopped.  She turned.  She faced me.  And just like the first time, she had no tears in her eyes.  She was unafraid.  For the first time, she spoke to me, softly, carefully, her measured tone lifting to my listening ears.  “Go ahead,” she said, her voice unwavering, “take me.”  I was still for a moment, uncertainty weighing on my mind.  She had acceptance in her eyes, steadily blossoming into strength like blood onto the shirt of the wounded man.  I slowly walked toward her, my footsteps silent, only as Death’s can be.  I was directly in front of her certain, unflinching body.  She stared fearlessly into my black soulless eyes.  I tilted my face towards hers, and brought my lips to her lips.  I felt her soul disconnect from her body, and flow into mine, as her body went limp in my arms.  I lowered her body to the ground.  Her eyes were empty labyrinths, full of secrets that no one would ever know.  Her soul tasted different, empty somehow, like there was nothing left in it.  It was then that I knew she had died long before my embrace had ever claimed her.  And suddenly, I recognised the stirring deep within my being’s centre.  It was sadness.
For nothing and no one escapes the destruction of Death.  i am the only constant, the only certainty, and I am not allowed the abundance of mortal life.  For Death is not supposed to wish for Life.

Soul-wrenching sadness

Posted in Poems, Sad Poems with tags , , , , , , on June 15, 2013 by Myra's Circle

It tears at my soul,
Yet still I want more,
This feeling, it’s strange,
I need it, somehow.

It whispers to me,
Quiet but sure,
Takes away what’s left of me,
In the hours of night.

It kills off the goodness,
Feeding the dark,
It’s trapped me forever,
In it’s glossy enfolds.

This feeling won’t end,
Now I need freedom,
I don’t think I’ll survive,
Through it’s awful sorrows.

The Darkness Here

Posted in Poems, Sad Poems with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on June 5, 2013 by Myra's Circle

There’s darkness here,
It shines so bright,
So very near,
To Heaven’s light.

Darkness flows,
Into my soul,
The seeds it sows,
Are very cold.

I cannot breathe,
The darkness suffocates,
My soul just seethes,
For me it’s too late.

The darkness returns,
In a dark sort of way,
It starts to burn,
My smiles away.

Mashed Up Feelings

Posted in Poems, Sad Poems with tags , , , , , , , , , on April 22, 2013 by Myra's Circle

I know that one day,
Some day,
You will destroy me,
You will rip out my heart,
And shatter it with your pitiless soul,
And leave me broken,

As I once was.
Though I know this,
I cannot help but feel,
So happy, inside,
But part of me,
Oh, that awful part of me,
Cries out in endless pain.

Perhaps it is because I am scared,
Of the pain I may feel,
When I’m close to the end,
And you destroy me completely.

You will tear apart my soul,
Leave it in tatters,
And brutally murder me,
But I do not care.

Is it fear, or perhaps something else?
Something much worse,
Much, much more deadly,
Then a terror worse than death,
Much more than loneliness,
Just like regret.

Regret is the voice that sings louder than most,
I know this, though I haven’t known,
What it feels like,
To regret to live.

I am only a child,
Not worth much now,
I don’t know anything,
About myself,
Or about anything, really.

Don’t Judge Me

Posted in Poems, Sad Poems with tags , , , , , , , , , on April 9, 2013 by Myra's Circle

Don’t judge me,

You can’t judge me,

Not unless you,

Have experienced my pain,

My hurt,

My tears,

Endured with fake smiles,

Pretended for others,

Killed yourself inside,

Destroyed your soul,

Thought about things,




Losing everything,



Revenge on yourself.

So stop judging,

Start seeing,


And not who you think I am.

Because until you,

Have seen through my eyes,

Have seen through my soul,

You’ll see why I die,



Posted in Poems, Posts, Sad Poems with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on April 8, 2013 by Myra's Circle

Crushed by such weightlessness,
My heart yearns,
For all the pain,
That it has learnt.

Destroyed by happiness,
My heart won’t seek,
It doesn’t want,
It doesn’t need.

Left in ruins,
Colder than time,
Older than man,
As harsh as a whine.

Hardened by tears,
Dripping to the soul,
Made into a curse,
Of that heart so cold.

Made from old dreams,
In a graveyard of rust,
One cannot undo,
This most sacred of trust.

But do not dare bother,
And do not dare wake,
And do not dare cover,
That piercing wail of heartbreak.

Maybe Someday You’ll See Me

Posted in Poems, Sad Poems with tags , , , , , , , , , on April 8, 2013 by Myra's Circle

No one sees this part of me,

This broken, shattered destiny,

And no one even wants to see,

My tears, or what’s left of me.

None dare to glance into my soul,

None would dare to be that bold,

And no one even tries to look,

Towards that writing hand that shook.

Blind to all my troubled endeavors,

Or broken hearts from those that severed,

My pretty dreams are all that remain,

They are all that keeps me sane.

But darkness does dwell here,

In this pitiful soul so dear,

To so many that do not know,

Who I am or where I’ll go.

Maybe I’ll just disappear,

To finally get away from here,

Someday, maybe, you will see,

Finally, finally, you’ll see me.

Dead Men

Posted in Nature Poems, Poems with tags , , , , , on February 19, 2013 by Myra's Circle

 The tragedies heard again and again,

Over the Dead Men’s mournful moans,

For we are the bones of the Dead Men,

But the Dead Men are not their bones.

There are memories heard from time to time,

When the Dead no longer sing,

Their song of songs, as old as rhyme,

It’s a tune with a sad sort of ring.

You may have heard it once or twice,

Tis a quiet little tune,

Softer than soft and to be precise,

It makes the Dead Men Swoon

The cries of the Dead Men are no longer heard,

For wherever their bones may lie,

Their bodies may always belong to the earth,

But their souls shall belong to the sky.

What was Inside?

Posted in Nature Poems, Poems, Sad Poems with tags , , , , , , on February 18, 2013 by Myra's Circle

What is in that dying soul,

That was left out in the cold?

In the counterpart of spring,

Oh, that awful, windy thing!

What is in that heart of mine,

 The one frozen over, for years at a time?

What feelings were trapped inside,

Inside that terrible heart of mine?

What was in that poison of yours,

The one that burned right to my core?

The one which no antidote will heal,

Left my wound to slowly congeal?

What was in the sadness so strong,

The one that made me doubt you were wrong?

The one that destroyed me, once and for all,

The reason why we all need to fall?


Posted in Fantasy Stories, Sad Stories, Stories with tags , , , , , , on February 16, 2013 by Myra's Circle

I know I lost something…. just, what was it?  It was something important.  Very important.  But if it’s so important, how come I ‘ve forgotten about it?  I don’t remember anything.  That word… what was that word?  It meant something to me.  It means something to everyone, I just know it.  This something shouldn’t have been forgotten.  It was far too important.  If only I could remember.  I am old now, and until I remember what I have forgotten long ago, I will not die.  I will simply shrivel up until I am a pile of rotting bones, but still, I won’t die.  My spirit will still be there, waiting, begging for finality, for closure.  It will stay there, wondering, hoping to remember what time made it forget.  My time is limited, but still, my soul stays.  It will stay there, still intact with my body until I remember that word.  That one word that will set me free, free from this world of agony and death.  My body begins to die, but my soul does not budge.  I am too stubborn for that.  And suddenly, the word comes back to me at last.  Memory.  Remember.  I remember everything that I have forgotten, and my soul starts to drift away from my old dead body.  “Thank you,” I whisper.