Life after Life

I never knew of love or light,
I only knew of death and darkness.
I am the one know as Bringer Bháis,
Bringer Bháis means Bringer of Death.
All around me no matter what I do,
Death falls.
Black fire from the deepest depths of Tarturus,
Falls around me in a Hell Storm.
My family and closest friends drop dead for no reason,
No reason except for knowing me.
I dare not talk to anyone for fear of their lives being taken,
How am I cursed to this extreme of an extent?
Everywhere I go death follows,
I walk by plants and they wither and die.
I kiss a beautiful girl on a magical night,
And the Fates have taken her from me the next day.
Life is so unfair,
“FATHER! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME! WHY HAVE YOU DONE THIS?”
Every time I find something dear to me it is ripped away,
Is it my fault?
Could it be me?
But how can I be so bad that everyone around me dies?
I am not a virus,
Am I?
It couldn’t have been me,
I worked so hard to keep my feelings hidden.
I never wished for this,
The Fates have cursed me.

I am but an old man now,
The Fates have not bothered me in thirty years.
They have not bothered me since,
I was called Bringer Bháis.
I live with only myself,
I never had a son, or a daughter.
I never fell in love,
I never found light.
I die, I finally allow the Fates to see me,
I am ready to die.
The fire surrounds me,
It engulfs me.
I feel pain,
But I welcome it.

Light, bright light,
Isn’t that what heaven is supposed to look like?
All I see is a dark haze and a dark polluted river,
I only smell sulfur and the stench of burning skin.
The only thing I hear is the gentle lapping of the waves on the boat, and the screaming of tortured souls in the distance,
Is this Hell?
No it can’t be Hell; I’ve been there, its warmer and brighter than this,
The haze is starting to clear, I look to the back of the boat.
I gasp, but fresh air that’s not there,
Pushing us across the river is a skeleton, with endlessly deep eye sockets, and a black robe.
Where Am I?