In the beginning there was emptiness, there was void. To achieve fruitful existence I reached into the pool; The ripples emanated as the goals and desires of others, Their aspirations seemed a natural and good course for me. I came to believe that the happy peoples direction saved them, Whilst mine lead me into a deep dark hole where I existed as nothing. I yearned to be those things that others rejoiced and held high, I yearned to be popular, to be cool, to be accepted and belong. As I began to find my goals unattainable, Began to accept my fate, My inability to integrate, My inability to satiate myself, I fell into the earth, Becoming learned in the art and salvation of hating me. I longed for understanding and sympathy, and received nothing but spit. I lay up at nights turning from side to side, Drowning in my sweat. The only thing that appeared to help was sorrow, Was tears. I began to create a world for myself, A world where everyone died. Any dream that I could forge of pain, Anything would do. I began to use my world, Learning to lie for an empathetic burst, I began to crave pain like a junkie and his syringe, I had created a voice for me, a new being within my head, I had created hope for me in this darkest of places. I give you Dr Herbert Cyan. <Footnote:- This piece is to be read side by side with "The Rise of Dr Herbert Cyan" in order to introduce the series of poems that this begins (the rest will be put up later, depending on who likes this one)>