Thanatos

Eros, I have a question…

For as long as time immemorial, I have stared through the souls of the damned that traveled through the realm of Hades. Despite incorporeality they smiled through the reality of their situation; many weep tears of anguish and pain and yet they struggle and time and time again they pick themselves up. No matter how much they give up, they still stand up. In this grim reality of life, I often question whether mortals live a life to die and be reborn as tormented souls that'll never know the true meaning of happiness. 

Eros, this bothers me greatly. 

Why does the mortal man continue to struggle as they brave the depths of irrationality? Under the unrelenting sky of crimson brimstone looking down at how pathetic your life will ever be, surrounded by a blazing hellfire that burns all your happiness and zeal into ashes which returns like a bloody phoenix. Sisyphus struggles on for all eternity carrying the weight of his sins till the end of Cronos' parting gift; Atlas though chained, bent, and broken, continues to hold the weight of the entire world. Even Hades himself waits patiently upon winter's end just to be with a person that will never truly love him back.

Time, the blessing of Cronos since the birth of Terra, does not wait for those that keep chasing the endless highs and cheap thrills offered by this sick and twisted illusion of happiness. As I stand as a guardian of hell, I question the souls who've finally reached the point of no return; those that gave themselves up to the whims of chaos and revel in the endless suffering of life itself. They smile gleefully akin to those that tasted the most miniscule droplet of ambrosia from the peaks of Olympus. 

How much pain can a mortal man entertain before they finally break? The same akin to the endless stars that shine down upon Olympus? The near limitless grasp of the domain of Poseidon or the endless expanse of the sky ruled by Zeus?

  Gods be damned for they gave mortals a life only for it to be a never ending struggle between pain and misery, a war against the Fates that already woven our path from birth to death; as each and every single man, woman, and child fought for their Happiness. I wonder about those that ultimately gave up.

Eros. I have loved you for as long as I've stood. I fought every inch of thread woven by the Fates to taste your lips and defied Death itself just to feel your warmth against mine. Our very souls are intertwined with one another; and yet here I am questioning if this is truly the feeling of Love.

Is this Love, Eros? Does it truly work out? Does my selfless selfishness satiate your endless thirst for affection and passion that would rival your Mother's lust for beauty?

I have given my entirety just to witness that smile that sends a foreign feeling from the depths of my cold and unbeaten heart. To hear your laugh makes me feel omnipotent, capable of rivaling the titans of yore and the gods of present. To feel your skin against mine makes me a victim of Dionysus' trickeries. Each and every interaction of this forbidden love has been paid with every droplet of my sanguine blood. As a puddle formed beneath me, each droplet of tear that I shed to the Earth tears at the very fabric of my existence.

Help me, Eros. Save me from this disease.

Am I a victim of my own selfless selfishness that is Love?

What is Love if not for sacrifices. What is love without risks? What is love without you here by my side in Hell.

Eros. Help me wake up from this eternal nightmare that I have placed myself into.

End me of my pain and suffering of longing for your presence. Plunge the dagger into my cold and twisted shell of what I once was. Put me down like the rabid dog that I am, pained and weak at the sight of my own rotting body, A bloated carcass of self-loathing for all the insecurities I have possessed.

Why is death more preferable than to live in Hades?

Eros...

Please, Love me.