The Memoir of Sylvester Hahn

"Attach a name to a loved one, they become harder to forget, or to overcome their death. The loss thereof becomes unbearable, for their existence now had more intrinsic meaning; the association becomes forever ingrained, everlastingly. The same goes for killers; attach a name to the murderer, and you will never forget their face. The association is forever ingrained, everlastingly." Sylvester: “…So, now you’ve heard some of my poetry, The streams of sanguine consciousness flowing From the arterial tissues of my mind. I’ve gone mad trying to tread the line, But now I have one foot in the genius, And the other in the insanity, I find. Allow me to explain what happened and why I am whom I am.” I found the paradise lost As schizophrenia took me through Dante’s inferno And I became acquainted with the circles below In my Morbid dreams All began when I was young The first time I heard the song The noises of excoriations Forcing me into fetal positions Injustices against my young flesh Took their toll on my mental health And the only escape I could find Was to run away deep into my mind The first few times I was met with glares Morphed me into someone scared Then, every single time I would breathe My heart palpitated and I’d get no empathies So I learned to bury beneath in me The horrors I was forced to keep in secrecy Implications that I would be slashed and bruised Should I stand up for myself and dare refuse 19 long years and I’ve grown into a product of my fears Cultish parental figures knew to trigger my tears And used them accordingly whenever they pleased Even if I tried to relax and put my mind at ease Psychosis set in when I was only a teen The only road I could hope to roam free Now welcome to my padded cell But at least I’m liberated from that hell For you see, The rage I carried from years of agony and hatred Erupted like a great hellfire and incinerated The liars who were my father and mother Burning the mountainside in majestic fire Arson and their dying screams I took great pleasure in, for I was finally free There is no god. Sincerest regards, Sylvester Volodymyrovich Hahn.