Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

Harsh rasps penetrate the silence
Grunt, Grunt, Grunt, Gasp
A possessive demon's lament,
Struggling to animate the carcass,
Squandering its last reserve of life
Reaching for a poison that isn't there.

The sickly pallor betrayed death's imminence,
Even before spying daggers of bone protruding beneath the skin,
Dry and cracked from drought
Flakes blow and fall like feathers
Her body already returning to dust... 

For years they said she was past the point of no return...
Completely consumed...
Parasitcally possessed...
Mentally mangled...
Was now the time to concede?

Not a chance!
I pondered and paced
My baby cries for me
But still I remain
”Pass her off to the professionals ”
Plug her in and walk away
 "Not a chance!"

A battle scarred Angel stirred,
Feeling my weariness
for the journey ahead,
"Go to her" "save her"
"She deserves our love!"
 "Forsake her forsakers” 

The Angel conjured memories in my mind,
Reminding me of why we fought this long,
Images of her, my blood; 
Contrasted with images of the insidious imposter controlling her limbs

So with my flawed guardian by my side,
I resolved to help free her,
As I've tried for an eternity,
Failing and falling.
With a battle cry of despair
I launched into motion
A haze, a blur, lights and lies
Urgent voices and unsettling questions,
...Even more unsettling answers.

And then they whisked her away,
They spoke of an exorcism,
I contained my hope returning home,
Picking up the pieces while the smoke cleared...
When it finally subsided,
I could see her standing, 
beautiful before me,
And my battle torn angel,
lay half buried behind me.

Having transferred his strength to me,
He'd been defenceless to the falling debris,
Depressed and depleted,
I sink beside him
We try and fail to clear the carnage
the struggle submerging us further.

Exhausted minds and bodies 
Feebly pushing against the debris
I turn to cry out for help...
But she was gone again,
Her memory of our sacrifices
lobotomised during the treatment.
Burning a hole were her compassion and empathy once lived.

My heart gushes an internal haemorrhage of betrayal and sorrow
Always the saviour... Never the saved...
Can I give up now?
With the souls I've delayed from the reaper,
I'm sure he'll be pleased to receive me...