Seven

I fell into a deep abyss. A large dark hole of endless suffering. A world of depression and madness. Pride fills within, a need to be the greatest. A feeling of vain glory. A hero greater than all heroes. A warrior who gains great suffering. The need of hearing my name being chanted. Achilles! Achilles! Achilles! Glory is my birth right, I am a God.
Greed, my need for all to love me. For I am the best. I cannot hear the chanting of my name, I will make them. I need more. They will love me. I need gifts. I need to sit on a throne greater than all who walk my path. I will be buried in riches and poured upon with wine. Songs will be written of my great bravery and I will not walk lonely halls anymore.
Lust, the need for his skin pressed up against mine. A sight for sore eyes, a beauty. His soft lips and dark, plushie skin. The sensation of my hands going through his soft, dark hair. His sharp jawline digging into my shoulder and the warm embrace wrapping around my body. Tears soaking my tunic as his face is pressed against my chest. His lips pressed upon mine. I need his touch, I need his taste. I love him but I can’t have him.
Envy, the jealousy that grows within when he says he had loved another. The anxiety that comes from not being pretty enough, not being rich enough, and not being good enough. Starving myself to be skinnier. I silence myself. Changing my appearance, my laugh, my personality, and my voice. The need to be someone else. Anyone else.
Gluttony, my hunger for it all. I watched him drown in his drinks, drowning in each bubble. For I, I do not listen to what I consume. I starve, wanting it all. I eat my young. I cry as the hunger of  war fills within me. The sensation of drinking in his tears. I’m starting to starve.
Wrath, the anger and haste that fills my insides. The roar and cry. I scream and no one listens. The thrusting of my fist as I hit my wall. The smashing of my head as I picture it bleed out. The hate for everyone that has wronged me. The screaming at the top of my lungs into an open nothingness. The meaningless words, I love you. My aggressive fight to survive in this cruel world. Eat or be eaten.
Sloth, my laziness. I do not dare to leave my cot. My cot drowned in tears. I do not dare go out of my way to save others. My need to do nothing. I’m tired and sore. I cannot move a muscle. Just put me to rest. I am no hero.
I am not a hero. I am no God. I am not Achilles, a hero greater than all heroes or Patroclus, a great poet and lover. I am not a great king who is courteous and bold to others. For I am just human. Just a small body in the big abyss. This is the end, my cry to the sky.