And The Villain Said Unto Him...

This was another ambitious piece. Instead of going for poetry like normal, I tried my hand at prose this time. I tried to mentally place myself in the shoes of a villain, and go on a rant that would hopeful discourage the hero who had me captured. Much like the Joker did to Batman during the interrogation scene in The Dark Knight. And what you will read here, is what I came up with. While it's quality is nowhere near my inspiration, I still had fun writing this piece.

"And The Villain Said Unto Him..."
2011

Life is but a stage.
And on it, we are but bit players.
In a beautifully, glorious tragedy.
And in this, some people are stars.
Some people are merely stagehands.
And a greater number are anonymous extras.
But from the moment the curtain meets the air,
there is going to be a time.
No matter how well the lines are read.
No matter how compelling the story may seem.
And no matter how long the performance lasts.
Despite the fact, that time sometimes seems to stop.
There will be a time, when the curtain must come down.
And then, all that we have known, is at its' end.
But, it's while on this stage of life,
most believe they are performing to an audience of one.
A one that has many names.
Whether he is the Unseen Director.
Or the so-called, Great Architect.
Some call him The Creator,
While some merely call him God.
And there are some who choose to get more personal,
by giving a proper name, to what is otherwise, impersonal.
They are like you hero.
They are greatest form of fodder in this universe.
They are the fools.
Fools that find their strength in the hollow.
The hollow creation of man, most know as faith.
To those who have been spared the reality of suffering,
faith is but a blissful fantasy.
A fantasy that they believe to be the true way of the world.
But it is we, the enlightened, who have suffered, that know the truth.
And the truth is, faith is nothing more than lies.
Surely-sweetened lies, spoon-fed to the masses, like a form of metaphoric food.
And those with the wool across their eyes, believe themselves to be full.
Thinking that this food, is their true sustenance.
And the only thing they will ever need to survive.
But that is merely another lie.
And it is here, that I wait, patiently, for their fantasy to crumble into ash.
As the weight of reality, crashes through their perfect world.
Like a wrecking ball sent to level, that which is no longer safe to stand.
And is THEN, that their souls will see their food is but a tease.
A tease that has left a hole in them, that no soul can fill.
A hunger that no amount of nourishment, will ever seem to satiate.
And I will laugh.
I will laugh until the tears fall from my eyes like rain.
And as those drops hit the ground, they will water the seeds.
The seeds of bitterness, already planted in your mind.
The same seeds that have long since blossomed in mine.
And have born fruit in many forms.
And your God, if he exists, knows how sweet this fruit can be.
For your good book hero, it claims He is far more vengeful than we.
It claims that he is merciful, yet he'll send the imperfect to hell.
And we all know He is jealous.
So hide your golden bull hero, you better hide them well.
For you wish not to face the wrath, of these collected contradicitions.
But enough about him.
Let's talk about you hero.
You believe yourself to be always in the right.
Therefore you believe your actions to be righteous.
But what they really are, is simple.
They are the reflection of the society you claim to serve.
They are SELF-righteous.
You see, a true hero does what he or she knows is right.
They often do it, seeking no benefit.
They do not seek publicity.
They only seek anonymity.
They do not wear a cape. They do not wear a badge.
Whether it's with a medical kit, or a stack of books,
they improve the quality of life in a given place.
And what do you do hero?
You claim to catch criminals, but all you caught was gossip.
You wish to make improvements, but you only made the headlines.
And you seek to make them safe, yet you've only secured your status.
You are a hypocrite, hero.
As hypocritical as that one you believe is sitting on a cloud.
The one, who to prove his love, willingly sacrificed his son.
And you call ME a monster?
But here's the kicker.
He claims he did it, just to save a wretch like me.
Oh hero, that is truly, an amazing grace.
Or how ever that stupid song goes.
The bottom line is this.
We are but two sides to the same coin.
I make no attempts to hide my flaws.
You've drowned yours in mask and cape.
But it's okay hero.
I've escaped your grasp before, and I shall do it again.
Haven't you heard? The curtain is still up.
But when we get to that last chapter hero, you will have to choose.
Whether you need your halo, or if you need your horns.
Because your slaps on the wrist only amuse me.
One of these days, you will need those nine inch nails,
to put me up for good...