The Man without a Soul

He was completely alone
Without an inner voice
to comfort him
No conscience
And no friends
to tell him right from wrong

The barren emptiness stretched for miles inside
As he looked at the opaque landscape
Nothing came into focus
He wandered like a man
dying of dehydration

Ready to collapse
He noticed salvation
A gun in a window
for sale

He paid in sweaty cash and walked out the jangling door
Onto a narrow sidewalk
across a busy street
A rush infiltrated his insides
Adrenaline
Exhaust
Noise

His palms were sweaty and his voice far away
When he made the deal with death
Gripping the weapon
He pointed it at himself
But something stronger resisted

Instinct
A will to survive
An organism bent on destruction
But unable to self-destruct

“Repent of your sins or burn in hell!”
He’d heard the voice before
Raising the gun barrel
He pulled the trigger

Blood squirted across the street

As the evangelist fell
The man without a soul
Looked into those vacant eyes

Needing to know what happens when a holy man dies

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