An Useless Organ

By: Friedrich P LaVey

It’s like I’ve awoken from a dream, but she’s not there. She is no longer my beacon to let me know where the rocks lay. She no longer my focus, she is no longer there to ward me. All this time I thought I had beaten a lonely destiny of being alone. There is no other for me but I will never have she who makes me whole. I used to believe that I was a whole person, and maybe at one time I
was. She held out her heart and I broke it. I didn’t see it at the time but it was my heart. It was one entity shared between two people. She wisely abondoned it, and it died.

Now that ruined lump of flesh and spirit lays rotting on the ground where I stomped it into oblivion. The piper has come to take his due toll. All that I foresaw has come to fruition. The sour fruit of my creation is my bittersweet flavor to savor for the rest of my existance. Knowledge that she has something shiny, new, and enticing is some solace as it gives an illusory reprieve
from my sins.

My losses mount. My assets dwindle. I refuse to become an old sap longing for good times long elapsed and phases of life expired, and yet I feel I have less to look forward to each year.

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