I Came From Hell

20 0 0
                                    

Earlier this month I discovered an iconic band that changed my ideas about honesty and desire. That band is Nine Inch Nails. The first songs I've heard from them are The Only Time, Happiness In Slavery, The Idea of You, and Copy of A. So far I've enjoyed them, but what fascinated me about them is their upfront willingness to confront their inhibitions and declare their wants and desires and to apply them into amazing electro-rock for their legions of fans to share and enjoy. Their openness in doing so has allowed me to mull putting my own thoughts of desire out there, regardless of public sentiment or taste. This piece (which is either a poem, an essay, or some piece of poetry I don't know how to describe) is my opening salvo in emulating them.


Do you still remember me? Do you?

Well you should, you high and mighty bastard.

'Cause you were the one who turned me away.

Back in my grimy old days of famine and strife

When I was a young upstart, beating the streets,

I came to you right in the apex of your power,

I was destitute, going cap in hand,

Looking for a golden opportunity

To live beyond mere survival and poverty.

You still remember that fateful day?

Course you don't, how could you?

I was but a wee little shrimp,

Amazed with your majesty and glory

And all I wanted was to join you,

Be part of your mighty cabal and have some,

Just a wee bit of that fame and power

That only you could grant and seize

With just a quick snap of your fingers.

I wanted a slice of that, even mere crumbs would do.

But what did you do? What did you do?

You laughed me out of there, cast me out!

Said I was born in dirt and will remain in dirt

Forever and ever, you declared.

You took my youth, my naïveté,

And mistook them for weakness and amateurism.

You drove me out and back into this desolate reality,

Back to famine and strife and condemned me to remain there.

How dare you? How dare you?!

To think I was unworthy of such power, such glory,

Merely on account of my circumstances,

And my lack of experience and visible ambition?

No, I won't let it stand, oh no,

I can't let that stand.

Not when the dinner table is empty

And life is a ceaseless rerun of what happened yesterday.

You thought I knew nothing,

So you believed I was nothing.

But see, I saw your base of power;

I observed your slaves,

Your hungry henchmen,

Your almighty patrons and backers.

Split SidesWhere stories live. Discover now