story

He stands staring into eternity, the abyss of his heart. Three times the cock crows and Peter weeps. He never believed it till it happened... My head burns and shakes, I need a fix... Peter drags a knife a cross his wrist and begs for forgiveness... He said my pain was for my sins what does he know... I go to the doctor he prescribed me a bottle...it was Gin. Blood pours from his wrists and he cries for all he has done...The bottle is empty it ain't worth a damn. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder they say hate is the only thing in my eye... Life ebbs out of him he continues to beg and whimper the priest condemns him, says it's too late.

William J. Rimbaud