The Obscure

My body is full of an innumerable mass of wriggling maggots, that tunnel through my flesh and gnaw away at my bones. At any chance they can get they try to force their way out of my skin and into the ears of another close-by host body, and I have to submerge myself in acid and burn off my eyelids to scare them back inside my body, and save the world from their disease.
One fine day, as a young boy, I found myself grasping at the hilt a pair of shimmering scissors, with which I wished to disembowel a young girl, for ridiculing me. I plotted to kill the girl, for days I planned it, but when the time came to run the red ribbon across her belly, sympathy overcame me and the girl was spared. For all I know the girl has gone on to lead an exemplary life, full of fun and wonder and love and contentment, and still I sit here wasting away, thriving on the sweet pungency of searing skin and grinning into the rotating blades that propel me towards my own destruction; I cannot help but think of the irony that I, with the benevolence to spare the life of a girl who by my divine judgment deserved death, am the miserable one.
But is mine a lowly misery? Is my mind my lowly company? I sit here on my rock and think of the ones who spurned me for centuries, while I tried to fake and learn their game. I've been sitting on this rock for hours, and all I can do is smile at the thought of all the effort of the Oppressors gone to waste, as I destroy myself, accomplishing something they never could.
I was born, a lump of coal. They crushed me, and they pressed me, and they thought they could make a diamond. They crushed me till they broke their heel on my bones, and left me still a sooty mass; and after, only after, they leave me there alone to rot, I turn into myself again. A flaming blade, to pierce the heart of God, so I was born and so I will die. And those who thought they could make my body with it's razors edge become another ornament for the happy globe of Man, are now food for worms, beneath the soil. And I, the worm of golden blood, can munch away now happily, and eat the marrow in the bones of those who thought that they knew Me.