She was the spawn of the devil. She was born out of the fire and blood. Nursed by the seven deadly sins, she drank from fear and feasted on wrath. She played with the ill fated. She brings death to the living over a whim and laughs at the pain of others without mirth.
Rising from the infinite darkness of hell, she dressed with greed and roamed the earth with absolute apathy. With her eyes, blinded by loathing, she reaps innocent souls. She watched with glee as life faded away from their eyes. Leaving a string of unbearable snake pit ground behind, she plants seeds of sin on faint hearts.
I saw her burning trail. My eyes followed her with awe and wonder. My hands rose to reach out to her evil flames. She was worlds away from me but she overwhelmed me with the yearning of oblivion. The seed planted in my heart slowly sprouted. I held it with care. I nurtured it with imperfections. I kept it away from the beauty of life. I sheltered it from happiness and love.
Growing like tough weeds in the garden, it crept slowly to consume my heart like cancer. I embraced its budding withered flowers of deceit, lies, and sorrow. It’s sharp thorns pricked flesh with a sting of venom.
As the woman floated through broken souls in the horizon, my eyes passed her. There was a glimmer. They shown like diamonds on black silk. The scintillate hope from the stars pained my eyes. I tried to look again for a reason that a second glance might not cause any twinge.
I locked my eyes to the distance of the unnamed stars. My eyes hurt and non-flowing tears flooded my faint heart. The deep dark skies hacked my already severed flesh with a silent ache. Though how wrenching it is for me to stare at the far shining glitter, I still struggled to cast and admire. I wondered if someone who tipped the scale, fell and stood up again would spare a glimpse to a demon touched girl like me… …a demon that flowers vibrant to charred. A demon that will bleed a man dry of his virtues, allowing life to cling to him like a disease. This child, ignorant as all children are, accepted this hellion’s touch as if it were the touch of his own mother.
Out of naivety, he used to fan the embers in an attempt to subside the anger. The embers spread and caught flame to everyone around him.
For years, the boy understood not the consequences of embracing only anger as an ally. He only understood raw, base feelings of heat; the envy, the imperfections, and brash eagerness.
Taking these things into the next decade, the young man found a channel for these burning desires. As time continued to dwindle past him, his chest felt dense and heavy as if the sky was filled with the ocean overhead.
Moving onward, the weight of that ocean in the sky fell and crushed him. The fire no longer took hold of his heart, but instead filled it with a lingering sadness; a pang in his heart that would be felt for the rest of his life.
As a man, he strove for balance. Never forgetting the naivety nor the weight on his heart, he carried these with him as a remembrance.
Now, at night, he stares up at the celestial sky hoping that someone else that’s felt the touch of a demon throughout life is also wondering at the night sky. He is able to smile, because this thought lifts the weight off of his heart. I wonder, if there is someone that has also found a sense of balance looking straight up as well.
–a collaboration with a pleasant lunatic