A Small Mental-Monolouge type thing

Untitiled as of Yet...
The touch of wind on my face told me it was autumn as I walked, hanging my head and sagging my shoulders as the binds on my wrists squeezed and suffocated my clasped hands. The smell of death, oblivion, was in the air, permiating on my staind, torn, clothing.

One of the violent guards hit me and I stumbled. Apparently stumbling deserves another hit for the guards boot tenderizing my already bruised ribs. Struggling, I got on my feet and once again marched to the end.

I was trapped, not only by my tempestuous adversaries, but also to the deep recesses of my mind. Voices depicting demonic angels and angelic demons in a spiral of internal screams of self hatred. My life is a confusion.

The past seems a dream; the present seems surreal and distorted. It is the future, the future, that seems unbareable. Why am I here? I do not know...
Perhaps the fact I was who I was, as I am who I am now, that fact was my albatross, my cross to bare. The very fact that there was an existance, which in consequence, I DID exist.

What was to come of me? What had I left in this world to ensure that I was not forgotten, not just some petty execution.

I contemplated whether or not I was worth saving, or even worth dying. If I wanted to, How could I escape? I am bound, I am weak and deteriorating, I am inept of the sanity of which I was born, taken from me from my ravenous mind of whiched seemed a machine, controlling my body, leaving me in a dark pit in the back of a head soon gone.

As I am thwarted towards my demise at a rising pace, I think of the folds and inlays of life and what life was and why it exists. Are we here to learn harsh lessons of truth? Are we here to get our hopes and dreams quenched like lives long lost. Why must one not find out the meaning of life until it is already too late to live?

Finally we reach the steep cliffside, protruding out of the ocean and the jagged reef below. My brutal guards push me onto a point, penninsulating out. As I reach the end of the rock; the end of my life, I stand, proudly on the edge, looking out, not down to the ocean abroad. I have lived and finally I understand why I lived. When I recover my sanity, my hope, my faith, my truth, my meaning...my life, I am pushed from the ledge. I fall silently; slowly I am overcome with the devouring darkness.