CXXXI.

Martyrs get off easy.
Because dying is simple
It's sitting here watching the world decay through these hollow eyes,
It's hearing every lie come through these gritted, stained glass teeth,
It's keeping yourself afloat just long enough to see everything you love drown.
That is what will rot you.
Burn you.
Eat you.
Kill you.
This is the short straw.
And there is no such a thing as a hero.