[UnbornBuddha]

Trail of tears

I could not describe the joy after I resigned
It was like peering into Nirvana with my eyes.
For just a short moment,
I transcended matter and space-time
As I closed the darkest chapter of my life.
And all I had to was hand over my badge and gun
But, ingrained in our nature is to be attached to stuff
-For justice seekers like me, the hand and ankle cuffs.
Though, no manacle can restrain a man’s miasmic thoughts.

Years later,
Post-traumatic stress still has me waking up in night sweats.
I should be grateful I made it, but I’m frightened
It’s like that tale when Hades when to fight death
Only to enlighten himself on how mayhem has blind him.
I too share the same fate and harbor plagues in my iris
I’ve scathed my eyelids because I’ve embraced the sightings,
Reminiscing on them takes me to horrific events;
Tragedies only malignant spirits consent.
I’m part of the stream of an apocalyptic conscious,
A blissful omniscience that craves intrinsic conflict.
What I saw that day,
I wasn’t prepared for- such vivid content.

My partner and I were working the night shift
Dispatch will call in with all sorts of assignments;
We’ll flip on our sirens and follow them blindly
As soon as we took them, my mind went on autopilot.
That night though, a gut feeling bled into my psyche.
Our task was a simple one,
Sort out a dispute of domestic violence
Arriving onto the site, we saw two meth heads fighting.

Upon questioning, I sensed something was deeply wrong.
Both were strung out silly, on their sickly love. Deeply numb.
Yet, the woman kept screaming “thee God please stop”.
The man smiling, said to us: “his almost done, go and look inside”
We went and saw another man with the most inhuman eyes
He had a baby mounted to a pike, mouthing to it his delusions of life;
Musings divine to those seemingly consumed by the pollution of light.
I said freeze, but my partner shot him dead on sight
He told me, “let the vermin die”.
And so, we proceed to search inside
We then saw another holding an infant, but this time injecting him,
Announcing how the meth will purify him for the Nephilim
It was then; a horde of similar of others appeared
Apparently, this was a gathering of “meth seers”,
Who sacrifice children to gain some form of insight.
We then saw 20 or more performing live morbid crimes
Without the means to stop them all, I was ambushed.
My partner revealed himself to be the ringleader of this bunch.
He only shot the other man for mere pleasure
The woman we first saw was pleading for her daughter’s betterment
Yet, the trap was set, and after the ritual
My partner said in a religious tone, “you will never forget this visual”
And if I ever did confess,
He will release a video of when I was forced to slit an infant’s throat.
The purpose was to transfer the child's purity onto another living soul
I did it because I cowardly wanted to live
But, that’s no excuse, now I’m haunted by it.
5 years later, I can see the child without even summoning him
As for my partner, before I die I will punish that Son of a bitch.
The path I’m on is a trail of tears; every drop unveiling nightmares
Offering glimpses of dead children wailing in fear,
Because the real monster of Elm Street is near!