The pain was there. Like a stab wound through the heart -
that aching hollowness inide. Hidden deep, yet lurking just
beneath the surface.
The pain was there, as it had always been, or so it seems.
There might have been a time without the pain, but it was
too long ago, drowned deep beneath the seas of memory.
The pain was there. it was part of me, like a hand or a leg
- only a hand could be cut of, but the pain never could. It
was all around my soul - a shell harder than steel deep
within, all around.
The pain was there, like an old friend at times, familiar,
well known and remembered. Or maybe more like a brother -
ever so close, tied up in blood, unseperetable,
unchangeable.
The pain was there. It couldn't be healed or forgotten, but
I knew well how to fight it, how to live with it - of course
I knew, how could I not? It was with me for so long... How
long has it been? Time has no meaning now, not here, not
like this. Maybe once there was no pain, maybe once there
will be none, but it doesn't matter, for that once did not
exist and never will - thats what the pain is for.
The pain was there. It was alone. once there had been hope
and remembrance, love and hate, maybe even pleasure. The
voice inside my heart tells me so, and it says the truth -
as it always has, and always will. I listen to it, as I have
done so many times, and yet  I do not understand. Those
words mean nothing to me. I have not heard them now or
before.
The pain was there, it had no meaning, it was everything,
and thus -  meaningless, pointless. It was the grey, the
emptiness, the eternity, as was I.
The pain was there.
             I was the pain.