Who I Am

They see me as a killer, one who will be the end of them. Even the bravest of men have come to fear me in their final hours. They don’t see my identity or face, for a dark mask hides it from them. They see me as terror and they are afraid of me.

They do not know who I am.

My victims see me as the epiphany of fear, the everlasting darkness that never recedes. They see me as a merciless tool of destruction. I am viewed as a horror that never sleeps. They think that I am death and darkness. But they can’t see the real man behind the mask.

They do not know who I am.

I am trapped in an eternal cycle of death. It is not my occupation of choice; it is a means to live. I have been forced to release havoc upon those who have been sentenced to death. My choices are bound. I cannot change my works. My own death is no escape; for if I don’t kill than another will then take my place, and I wish none to feel the pain and regret of the burden upon me. And yet, I am feared for my actions. But they do not know that my choices do not apply. They do not know I despise my own works. They cannot imagine the turmoil that rages in my heart. They do not know who I am.

I cry out in anguish for those who have fallen prey to my bloodied axe. I cannot forget them. Their faces burn deep holes of hate into my heart. I cannot forgive myself for what I have done to them. For they see me as a shade and demon who will spell their destruction. And though they are blind because of the curse of my mask that hides me from them, I still feel their terror and their pain. They despise me for what I do.

But they do not know who I am.

I want to be free of this oppression. I want them to see that I am neither hate nor death, but that I am simply trapped. I want them to know that I do not have any ill wish against them. I want them to see that I do not wish fear upon them. It is not my choice.

I just want them to know who I am.

I am not a monster, reaper, or killer. What they see is not true, for who I am is not what I do. Though they see only a mask, I am normal. If only they could see. All I want is to be free, and to be able to live, love, and be loved. My heart doesn’t dictate my actions, but I can still be something different. I can be normal; I can be who I am, who I was made to be.

I just want to show them who I am.

My life has purpose beyond death. I am here for something more. I will not let the decisions of men guide the path of my life. I will decide my fate and the position of my heart. I will choose who I am. And who I am is not a killer. And I want to show them that, I want to show them that I’m normal, that I’m human. For I am a man and I want to live and have freedom. I want them to know who I am.

Who I am is a lost man, alone and broken. But I am searching for something that will guide me out of this. I know that there is more to life than death. I am hurt and burdened greatly, but I’m hoping in a brighter future. For I am not the mask; I am simply a man, searching for direction.