He beckons, a solid finger of gold it seems. His eyes a dazzling shade of red, but all I can smell is death. Beautiful lips open and close in a meandering flow of thought and rhyme. He asks me to close my eyes, to not open my mind. A shift in wind, His smell falls upon me so sweet, so rich. His words I hear adorned in a delightful pitch. As these words fall I have to follow. I have to find out. He smiles oh such a smile as I take the first step, heavy is my footfall all the while. Tiresome is my effort. A small voice begs to differ, begs me to not consort. But I cannot help myself. He is want and I am weary. He shines with such warmth I am no longer fearing. Now I do not question. I do not pause as he begins to sing his songs, “I am a thief of thoughts. Not, I pray, a stealer of souls.

Come with me and you will forever know,” These untouchable words are the most beautiful song I have ever heard. So I continue to seek him out. Where to I do not know. He leads me down this path which keeps to grow. Something tells me I know him. A memory in the back of my mind, Deja vu is my guardian a death wish I have so blindly signed. Then as if in a dream I remember that rhyme his lips said but I could not hear it falls upon me as does fear. They go, “I am my words as you eat your actions. Taste me and my everlasting sacristy. Are they bitter? Are they sweet? Do they raise the flesh on your skin as your tongue waters behind your teeth? Air withholding as you swallow these memories? Or do all senses start to die as my image fills your mind? I am thoughtless. I am never kind. I am the wind behind your stutter. I am the pause beneath your speech. I am the sickness behind your worry and the draw beneath your fall. I will disgrace you. I know no boundaries. I never love. Find me beyond hopelessness, see me before you begin to detest before you diminish as you suffice to self destroy. I am not hate. I am beyond such pettiness. I am the voice whispering in your ear to end it, to just jump, I promise I will catch you.

Together we will supersede today and on tomorrow will begin our trek from hell,” I gasp, these words I’ve known so well. How many times as he tricked me? How many times have I fell? I begin to run, but there is no escaping him. My hope, my light begins to dim. Where is my way out? Ever against him can I win? But yet for now, I no longer stutter. I no longer pause. I face him and battle it out with words shared amongst those whom awe and tempt carry no draw. Will I destroy this? He is such beauty, it is such bliss. For now it is war. For now here in hell I am his and as his, my friends, I write of this. The end of me, the destruction of serenity. This is my farewell. I am a heathen consort, an angel of negation to dwell. Forever in the devil’s arms. Forever wicked in the ways of charm. Take this as an apology, as a sworn sorry for being his, for being mislead, for being me that cold hearted innocent I am not. A survivor, one amongst many.

CW