Snow Demon

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
An allegory in the form of a poem, Snow Demon follows one man's journey of self-discovery and reflection, as he endeavors to understand the truth behind rumors of a mysterious force spreading fear throughout his homeland.

Submitted: January 16, 2020

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Submitted: January 16, 2020

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SNOW DEMON

 

I went to visit the snow demon

On a cold winter’s day

In the old Brenwulk forest

Where few would go, where none would stay.

 

They said that it was cursed

They said that it was grave

For no living thing could last there,

That did not become its slave.

 

I dared against the rumors

The truth I had to know

For fear makes fools of men,

Whilst myth and illusion grow.

 

And if no living thing lasts there

That does not become its slave

Then from what did the fear arise,

The danger that any should stave?

 

How foolish I must have been

To feel some form of fright

Over something I knew so little of,

Yet traverse the dark I might.

 

They told me not to think it

Though I spoke not of my plan

Yet when I inquired of their source

They told me, I wouldn’t understand.

 

Indeed their fears were quite compelling

For stories spread across our land

Of something deadly lurking in hindsight,

And bitter torment was its brand.

 

It raped and maimed

Its victims, broken and shamed

And when all was said and done,

Only that brokenness remained.

 

Yet warnings of such horrors

Were all but folk tales to me

For I had never seen them

It was convenient to let them be.

 

As murder abounds in my country

Of pain, vengeance, and war

So with all the monstrous deeds wrought here,

There was no need to imagine more.

 

“It tears at your flesh,” they said.

“It bathes you in pain.

It forces your eyes to see

What might drive the mind insane.”

 

“It is the spirit of Gathra!” they’d shout.

“It is the end of our days!”

“It is the wrath of Undiagnon,

Come to repay our evil ways.”

 

In truth I had no argument

No, nothing to rebut,

For I too was lost in uncertainty,

My mind entangled in the same rut.

 

I did shun it all as conjecture,

Oft the tool of religious lecture,

But that the guards forbade passage,

Made the truth a looming specter.

 

For even if the demon was but a lie,

Clearly some threat was at hand

A real tormentor on the loose,

Whose methods we did not understand.

 

To that point, there was one such culprit,

One man the whole nation could blame,

Whose ravaging deeds were known to all,

The Breaker, was his name.

 

He raped and maimed

His victims, broken and shamed

And when all was said and done,

Only that brokenness remained.

 

Even the mystery fit him well,

As despite every attempt,

Not a soul could catch the beast,

Making ill the chance to preempt.

 

Thus the broken remain broken,

Their lives left torn apart,

And thus horrid tales are told,

Of his most sacred art.

 

What then had I to look forward to?

What vicious end did I await?

But then that’s just the illusion, yes?

I had no evidence to debate.

 

It made no sense, my venture

For why should I go and seek?

Should I not flee from danger,

Despite the illusion at its peak?

 

Twas one thing that made me wonder,

Against the fault of blunder,

As not all fell victim to this thing,

Though to all, a threat it seemed to bring.

 

It chose its victims carefully, I heard

There was some strategy involved

But that none could explain it,

Rendered the truth unresolved.

 

The want for answers haunted me

A raging need to know,

Forcing my mind to shove logic aside

I would not let fear without knowledge grow

Thus, into danger I would go.

 

One day I set my course,

And drew near the demon’s door,

Where the watchmen said, “Turn back!”

Their warning I would ignore.

 

But then, as they withstood me,

Their guard was quick to fade,

Besieged by a cold reverence,

Which rendered their will unmade.

 

So fearfully did their steps part,

Like a gate opened wide,

As if something welcomed me,

And beckoned me inside.

 

I gazed with caution at my path

That same reverence swallowed me whole

The snow rained heavy,

My vision impaired,

The wind did churn and roll.

 

And Before my eyes, a great pale smog

Shrouded my courage as the distance beyond.

 

But no, I would not recoil

Nay, I would not betray,

For the mystery would not let me rest,

Should I fear the truth, and run away.

 

I toured the forest of Breunwulk wide,

Afraid of every step

The rumors shattered my better judgment

The demon’s insanity, I might accept.

 

My dread was soon given shape,

Enclosed all around me,

The forms of those unmade

Their torment to confound me.

 

They stood and sat, and hunched over,

Immersed in waters of strife

Their faces torn,

Their skin pale and worn,

So many clinging to life.

 

In heaving bouts,

Ill screams throughout,

They raged in pain and fear

Ravaged by grief,

Impaled by shame,

Drenched by constant tears.

 

They shivered, not for the cold,

But for the loneliness within,

Their minds an endless prison,

Reciting the tales of their sin.

 

And from their sin, I was not exempt,

For lo, as I passed by,

I felt and saw all things they did

Their pain I could not deny.

 

For their pain was in part, mine.

 

I knew not, there were so many

I truly knew nothing at all,

That my neighbors would own such guilt,

Such guilt to which I could fall.

 

For I was one, such as they,

Though passive I might have been,

Who proudly wore the nation’s score,

Inhabiting the same sin.

 

As I pressed on,

The journey seeming so long,

I wondered at my fate

What separates me from those I see?

I had only but to wait.

 

The strangest thing, I realized,

Was how they should have died.

With a cold so strong,

And no shield from its throng,

How was it they survived?

 

The brazen cold near broke me

Frozen winds fought me back

The snow now sharp and blinding

Its depths drove my feet off track.

 

My legs gave way amidst the deafening chill

When in my stifling daze,

I saw between the shades of trees,

A dark ghostly haze.

 

It had no form that I could tell

The snow did hide it rather well

But what frightened me more than its towering size,

Was what appeared to me, two bright burning eyes.

 

“What are you?” I said aloud.

“Reveal yourself to me!

I bid you show what I must know,

The truth, I need to see.”

 

My arrogance, though riled

Was merely a cry of desperation

My death I thought was imminent

Before then, I would have revelation.

 

Silence awaited my passions to fail

Only after, the words I would hear

From the shadow, a voice so strong

Its words, unexpectedly clear.

 

“What would you have me show you?

What truth is it you seek,

That you would come so far to die,

Against the warning of the weak?”

 

“I have heard what men say of you,” I said.

“I grow weary of the illusion’s snare.

I ask of you, what you say of yourself?

Please let me understand, if you would so care.”

 

“You would brave the curse of insanity,” it said,

“The illusion opened wide,

 Unafraid to challenge the fallacies abroad,

To distinguish your mind from the lie?

 

Yet, seek you a truth of your own make?

Do you understand why you are here?

What truly led you to this place?

What is the sum of your fear?”

 

“I fear the things I do not know,

The chance that you were real,

Or that my doom, if yours I am,

Would echo the pain your slaves reveal.

 

What I fear most, above all else,

Ever since the stories told,

Is that I am no more worthy of life

Than these submitted to the cold,

That my sins bear the same mark,

That I am no more free,

That I am bound to the same lot,

As these whose darkest deeds I see.

 

I seek instead, release from these

To escape the lies of my own mind

For I am broken deep within

I fear, by my own design.

 

I followed blindly my nation’s brand

A prisoner to my own neglect

Despite not walking hand in hand

Its thoughts I failed to reject.

 

If it hated, so did I

Where it dealt evil, I stood by

And though my hate was not extreme

I failed to comprehend what that might mean.

 

What I was told, I questioned not

And what difference did it make?

But that it made no difference at all,

I think, is my greatest mistake.

 

Now I cannot change my people at all

The nation’s sins I cannot bear

But if at least I free myself,

That’s one less demon they can spare.

...What say you to this?”

 

Quiet was its answer to me.

“How could I give it pause?”

I wondered, “Did I anger it,

Or was there more to its cause?”

 

“You have but one fear,” it said,

“For all that you have named

One common thread I find throughout,

At the heart of your shame.

 

You fear what may become of you

If you choose to share their sin

Tis not the demon rumored that haunts you

It is the demon within.

 

Yet, what so many fail to realize

A truth so few can know,

This demon is not yours to keep,

Unless you deem it so.

 

This choice is one all these have made

Their pain, on their own flesh they’ve laid

Their suffering is what they’ve conceived,

As real as only they believe.

 

But where do I come in? You wonder.

What part in this is mine?

Come now to me, just past the trees

What truth you seek, you will find.”

 

Twas here, my mind was tested

The choice was mine to make

The thought of turning back,

Such a tempting path to take.

 

I could not believe reality

That I could come this far

Afraid to think, it would speak with me,

And as honest as the daylight star.

 

But wait! What honesty was there really?

How could I know there was no deceit?

All I had, was what I felt within me,

A stirring that I could not cheat.

 

There was warmth inside my body now

The strain of winter was gone

I felt my limbs return to me,

And with them, the will to carry on.

 

I tread the way of the trees

My thoughts, much more at ease

Then, like a door opened wide,

Into a realm as violent as raging seas.

 

I saw a man fall from a roof

His skull cracked open beside me

I looked to whence he came

And there she stood

The malice on her face,

Spilling over like the blood from his wound.

She took pride in her deeds.

 

Again I saw a man engrossed

His fists plunged against his cheeks

He sat upon his chest so tight

To hold him still

And break his will

Whilst he smashed open the fruit of his crown.

Oh the pleasure he felt, as his fists came down.

 

Another clawed at this young boy’s skin

She dug her nails into his flesh

Her eyes so driven with rage

She wanted him to feel pain,

So much pain.

 

Ecstasy came at his expense,

His screams made her wrath divine

His suffering, her only recompense,

In his sorrow, peace she would find.

 

In a corner, the knife came down

Again into her chest

Across her face he slashed

And then, right through her breast

Her legs now open wide,

A horrid thing I saw,

He laid the blade between them

To carve a gaping hollow maw.

 

Worse still, was the love they felt

Both men and women alike

As they together tortured him

With flesh torn at the end of a spike

With lashes scoring his body hung high

And licking red drippings before they dry,

More insult than bloodlust, they would not deny

To tease the poor soul and make him cry

So helpless he was, as he could only wonder…why?

 

I walked through a city of broken ground

In the air, a terrible warring sound

As many fought to rape and kill

Sheer hatred wild all around.

 

And there beside me, I did not know

The demon walking; his form did show

Not quite the like I would imagine,

Yet one befitting this ragged vision.

 

Its robes were long, layered and tattered,

Gray and old and dust ridden

Their scarred edges dragged the sand,

Sinking deep beneath the land

Its feet hidden within their tufts

Its hands enclosed inside thick cuffs.

 

Its head was shielded by a cowl

A miserable shape so ripped and torn

Except for the eyes which glowed and burned

And near the top, a single broken horn.

 

I looked at it, and it at me

“What is this place?” I asked.

“What is it you see?” it said,

“Look to the members of their wrath.”

 

Indeed I looked again,

Prepared to conceal my eyes,

For I feared it would infect me,

And claim me as its prize.

 

But then did I remember

What the demon said to me

That this thing is not mine to keep,

Unless I let it be.

 

Indeed I looked again,

No more to conceal my eyes,

And saw what was not plain before

The ones who believed the lies.

 

They were the forms of those unmade

Whose torment did confound me

Who gave shape to my fears,

Enclosed all around me.

 

Twas here their sins were rich and bloody

Their darkest deeds did thrive

The ugliness of what they conceived

A searing pain I could not deny.

 

The answer to my question

Was now difficult to ignore

Made apparent by these haunting words

Once spoken to me before:

 

This choice is one all these have made

Their pain, on their own flesh they’ve laid

Their suffering is what they’ve conceived

As real as only they believe.”

 

As I pieced the truth together

To the demon I did say,

“This suffering is what they’ve conceived,

As real as they yearn to believe.

Yet not upon their own flesh to lay,

But to condemn others to whatever suffering they may.”

 

“And?” the demon urged,

“Look again at those tormented.”

 

I gazed once more upon the deed doers

Their faces now grossly estranged

The sights on which I set my eyes,

All around had utterly changed.

 

My feet stopped in mid stride

To a man’s body thrown aside

And when his head struck hard the wall,

His face at once I did recall.

 

His visage I saw beyond the gate

Among those frozen in their fate

This man who at first held the bow,

Fell victim to his own arrow.

 

This change I witnessed all throughout

The predators turned prey

Subjected by their own hatred,

The demon they nurtured every day.

 

Now the truth was fulfilled

I fully understood

They were broken by their own will

And finally, the demon said, “Good.”

 

“But how?” I asked in return.

“How did they will this on themselves?

Have they the power to make it so,

Or something else? Please do tell.”

 

The demon turned to face me now,

Just then I realized,

The moment I long awaited,

Was finally before my eyes.

 

“The truth you have long sought” it said,

“Now stands here before you.

Look at me; think on what you see.

The answers, you will find within you.”

 

The robes of the demon rippled out

Then clear like water, calm and sure

Reflecting what was underneath

A vision to make ill or pure.

 

I saw in the mirror, where I began

I saw my growth into maturity

And the influences that informed me

Every piece, every choice, every act

The conditions, and the people, which affected me.

 

I saw them all from a new perspective

Of the kind only a god could know

Thrusting my mind into anxiety

And my heart into a pool of woe.

 

I began to understand so much better

The truth that might break a man

For the monster growing deep within,

Was now more vibrant than I could stand.

 

I wept at the sight.

In silence my tears fell,

Grief welling up inside.

And again, I saw it

More clearly than ever:

Me, and my naïve thoughts,

Urged by the pressure to submit,

My confidence crushed beneath watching eyes,

Looking to pounce at the slightest hint of dissent,

The monster that is my country,

Sounding the trumpets of war,

Goading the people to action,

Eating the hypocrisy they were fighting for,

My peers, driven by selfish expectations,

The greed and wretchedness they hoarded,

Forcing their way inside my mind,

Turning my will to compromise,

Fearing the punishment that would burn me out,

The noise that would shout me down,

Propagation, persuasion, coercion, law!

 

I saw it vicious. I saw it raw.

 

And all the while, what cut me deepest

Was this seed of potential, innocent and small,

Which could have given rise to a better mind

The same mind that now questions all,

Which could have been taught to understand the world,

The truth of its nature and form,

Rather than judge it as if it were mine,

As if from my mind it were born.

 

From the time of my youth, I wanted that

To be filled with wisdom and truth

Yet, when I sought for any who could teach

Ignorance was all I knew.

 

Laughter of fools was what met me

Those who praised their violent ways,

Set their minds to reject me

Thus was cursed my early days.

 

Silenced was my potential

My innocence blotted, debased,

By primitive notions of manic presumptions,

That we were a far superior race.

 

Permitted then by our wrathful gods

To do all that we see fit

To those we consider less than us,

While our own weakness, we never admit.

 

We would rather someone else pay that price

Than to look at ourselves, and maybe think twice,

Or at least, once…that would be nice.

But I speak of those who are cold as ice.

 

I felt hopelessness within.

I knew that I failed

Twas already too late

On my knees did I wail.

 

“Enough!” the demon said,

“There’s still more to see.

Look here one last time,

Before you let it be.

 

I looked again at the mirror,

And saw a different scene,

One where I escaped the rabble,

To awaken from the common dream.

 

The sun shined on my body

As I strayed from the nation’s trap

To realize, I’d not been myself,

As though poisoned by a toxic sap.

 

And here, I saw what failure could have been

If I chose to hide and pretend

That I was as cowardly as my people

But instead, I opted to amend.

 

The journey the demon showed me

Led me right back to him

I cannot say what makes it a person

But this transition was more than a whim.

 

That aside, my failure was redeemed

For rather than fall to the demon’s snare,

I took the road of Brenwulk Crossing,

To understand why the demon was there.

 

But now a question came about:

How was it I survived?

Why did I not become like them,

The ones who suffer but do not die?

 

I remember, the demon let me in.

Was this somehow part of his plan?

With humility, this I asked of him,

And to me he held out…his hand.

 

With awe I gazed upon its craft

Such hollow crystal shapes

Reflecting everything around it

And in its facets, I saw my face.

 

Every version, piece and placement,

Showed a different quality

Of all the measures of my soul

Of everything that made me…me.

 

One reflection shined most bright,

A countenance unburdened by blight

The face of a man now whole and content

His will, no longer broken or bent.

 

Then said the demon,

“No matter the face you present to me

Who you are within is what you will see

Your deepest fear,

Your truest desire,

And all to which you truly aspire.

 

What you project to me,

Whether monster or man

Is what I give back to you,

The mark of your own brand.

 

The snare to which so many fall

Is found in this one verse:

That the mindset which defines you

Determines the blessing or curse.

 

If you desire hatred,

Then hatred is what you’ll receive

How real it becomes to you

Is a matter of how real you want it to be.

 

Who you blame for what you despise

Does not change who you are,

Only you can master yourself,

Only you are responsible, and no one else.

 

Beware, is what I warn them

Take care in how you think,

But none of these would harken to me,

So into deep sorrow they sink.

 

Betrayed by their true image,

Stripped by their chosen fate,

Broken by their worst failure,

To know themselves before too late.

 

But you, unlike the many

Who rallied to me by force,

Came here to understand yourself,

And reassess your life’s course.

 

You brought with you, repentance

In honesty you sought

Intent on setting free your mind

From all the pain your peers have wrought.

 

I promise, there is no deceit

Never will there be from me,

Unless such cruelty one brings here,

Of which, one has himself to fear.”

 

“This choice is one all these have made,”

I said with clarity of mind.

“Indeed,” the demon said to me, and then,

“We’ve one last horror to find.”

 

We continued on,

Walking side by side,

In a world brimming with brutality

To all of it, there seemed no end,

Alluding to a brutal reality.

 

At last we arrived at a hallowed place

Where great masses gathered from afar

An altar was raised here in golden splendor

And on it, a ceremony most bizarre.

 

Here, one final act I saw,

Is one I cannot forget,

For above all others I observed,

It nearly drove me to regret.

 

I watched this one woman,

Beautiful and bare.

Ageless was her body,

But for beauty, she did not care,

 

For her concern was bound up

In the pleasure that she felt,

As she cut those offered to her,

As if to skin a bison’s pelt.

 

She lured them by the hundreds,

Chained at the neck and limbs,

Pulling them towards a clay tub,

Large enough to swim.

 

Its craftsmanship was lovely

Ancient carvings all around

There seemed inscribed a language

To which her voice was bound.

 

And as she spoke to those beneath her,

Her words, I need not know,

For she was to them commanding

And at her words, they would go.

 

Into the tub they fell,

One or two at a time,

She leaned them back against the edge,

And upon them she would climb.

 

Whilst she sat atop their chests,

Her pride pronounced as were her breasts,

She gazed as from a seat of power

To scorn them in their final hour.

 

She held to them a knife so thick,

Enough to kill a beast hard and quick,

Grinning with excitement and bated breath,

Exhaling as she slit them until death.

 

Yet poured the blood before they died

And she kept scoring to hasten its stride

More, she required from those who remained,

Pulling them inward, all with great strain.

 

She slashed as they fell in

Draining them of life

Until the tub was filled with it,

Red and flowing and rife.

 

Like wine she drank,

Like a pig she guzzled,

Bathing and splashing and lathering her flesh,

Licking it liberally off her pets.

 

She cleaved and ripped and chewed to the end

She devoured her slaves alive

Anyone was fair game, those soon to be slain,

Among the few who survived.

 

She panted as though starving

Vicious and wild she dined

Her eyes were furiously glaring

Her wide-stretched mouth and teeth so defined.

 

She’d go under, then come up

Like the hunting whales of the sea

She played, she laughed, she screamed with joy

And then she looked at me.

 

She only stared in silence

I wondered what she might do

I hoped it was the demon she saw,

But when I moved my head,

She moved hers too.

 

Fear overtook me then,

More than I had ever known

There was something about this woman

That gripped me to the bone.

 

I could not move,

Not even flinch,

I never could say why or how

But every time I think of her,

I feel as if she’s here right now.

 

Despite how quick it kept me

That fear died down after a while

Yet before it subsided,

She gave me a most wicked smile.

 

With her eyes trained on me,

She grew worse in her lust

Yoked a man by his neck,

While he pleaded and fussed

She began to feed from flesh to marrow

Empowered by his billowing cries,

She broke off his hand,

She slurped up his fingers,

She chewed out his stomach,

And made the pain linger.

 

Then when she was done,

Her hunger increased

She pulled more flesh to her,

Not sated in the least

Her mouth grew wider,

Again she went under,

And as they fell in,

She tore them asunder

Her jaws would unhinge

She’d swallow them whole,

One after the other

She had no control.

 

The woman was gone

She was now nothing more

Than a bloody man eater

A beast at her core.

 

I then asked the demon,

“Why show this to me?

What is it about her

That I need to see?”

 

“A warning,” he said,

“A threat to the land.

Keep watch for her kind

And you will understand.

 

This one has many faces

Her true self is lost,

She hungered for all things

And did so at great cost.

 

She has no control,

No power to cease,

And if none confront her

She’ll only increase.

 

What you do with this knowledge

Is yours to decide

Choose carefully your thoughts,

And in truth you will thrive.

 

Remember today, what you’ve seen and heard,

Your mind has the power to contain

Know who you truly are inside

And balanced you will remain.

 

Your time here is complete,

Unless you choose to stay

I can lead you through the gate,

Or you can find your own way.”

 

“I am ready to move on,” I said,

“Please lead me to the gate,

I’d like to walk beside you,

I’ve no more reason to wait.”

 

Away we started walking

The searing pain had lifted,

And while lost in my thoughts,

Through the gate we drifted.

 

As I awakened to snow and ice,

And all those lost in time,

Their sins I saw, no longer afraid,

Their pain, no longer mine.

 

Not even the cold could pierce my skin

The warmth I felt, still burning within.

“I’m not the same as I was,” I thought,

“The demon’s spirit, I may have caught.”

 

An odd sound I heard then,

The demon laughing,

With a short little chortle,

What an anomalous thing

…As if he knew, what I was thinking.

 

“One last question I have for you,” I said,

“Why do you dwell in the snow?”

In all simplicity, the demon replied,

“Because I have nowhere else to go.

 

I am but a stain left behind

By one who is free to roam

This one is very much like me

Yet his faculties are his own.

 

His power, however, strays from him

Here and there, from time to time

It is never known what will be found,

Until he leaves his sign.

 

He is the shadow who hunts the foul

Those whose deeds have ruled till now

Masters of the illusion which breeds

Such wicked hands for wicked deeds.

The countless burdens you see here

Soon, all the nation will bear.”

 

I knew of whom it was he spoke

Whose true nature we’ve yet to see,

More mystery than the Breaker, but for now,

It’s convenient to let him be.

 

I said goodbye to the demon

My livelihood restored,

And walked the path I started on

With confidence reassured.

 

I did have one small moment

Where I turned back to view the snow

When I did not see my body there,

It was enough for me to know.

 

The guards maintained their post

Amazed when I passed by

But when I turned to greet them

They fell quiet, almost shy.

 

As I reflected on my journey

I wondered at my fate

What future lay before me now?

I had only but to wait.

 

The strangest thing, I realized,

Was how much I had changed.

What kind of man had I become,

Now from my peers, estranged?

 

No more was I among them,

I knew returning home,

Though I was no less myself to them,

I felt all the more alone.

 

While I walked to my house,

Amidst the common crowd,

I thought back to Brenwulk forest,

And an image shown so loud.

 

You see, I thought I’d find the Breaker there

But that was not his place,

For now I see him everywhere,

In most everyone, on most every face.

 

He is not himself the infection,

But a symptom, now I see,

And as long as the nation feeds him,

All the stronger he will be.

 

Is the snow demon even demon at all?

Only to demons, I think.

For me, he helped me free myself,

When I was bound by everyone else.

 

He is not the spirit of Gathra.

He is not the end of our days.

I doubt he’s the wrath of Undiagnon,

Come to repay our evil ways.

 

He doesn’t rape, he doesn’t maim

His victims? There are none.

Though many are broken by him,

When all is said and done.

 

They are not broken by his will,

But by what he gives in return

For the horrid gifts they bring to him,

The lessons they refuse to learn.

 

As murder abounds in my country

Of pain, vengeance, and war

So with all the monstrous deeds wrought here

How long will they imagine more?

 

Ten months ago, it was,

Since I walked Brenwulk’s way,

Yet, no matter when or where I am,

It always feels like yesterday.

 

For a time, I held them in my thoughts,

The memories I long kept,

And though my will was strong enough,

But for writing, I would not have slept.

 

It’s not that the horrid things I saw

Could break me at any time,

But so much knowledge, vivid and wild,

Makes for a busy mind.

 

The many faults I saw and heard

No longer cause me grief

It only makes me sad inside

And from the sight, I do not hide.

 

No longer is there fear within

Except of she who haunts my soul

The woman for whom I once felt dread

Her mark, I still feel upon my head.

 

But the power of that moment in time

Is but a fragment of what it was,

Though it still tends to sting and burn,

The pain is mild – a call to learn.

 

For while I do not see her form,

I feel her presence on certain days

This looming threat I’ve yet to encounter

Keeps me at watch, until I’ve found her.

 

Ever since I returned from the forest that day

Most has been different, few things the same.

Those I called my friends for so long,

Can barely speak to me, as if something’s wrong.

 

It’s not a trade I miss, as much as I should

Even I don’t see them, in the way that I would.

In fact, very few of the faces I see,

Are ever as plain as what they used to be.

 

Every day, amidst what was familiar,

I see a new world I find awfully peculiar

The faces I pass by, show a much darker side,

Apart from a few precious angels who hide.

 

For they are not welcome

Amongst murderers and thieves,

Who might kill them in the night

If they appeared to disagree.

 

So when chance allows,

I confide in one or two

It’s hard now to find people

Who are kindly and true.

 

And even most recent,

I’ve had to keep away,

For most grow to fear me,

And the things that I say.

 

Have I truly changed that much?

Do my words bear such power?

I don’t look any different,

But I feel it every hour.

 

I know that I’ve changed,

Though I cannot say how.

I’m not quite who I was,

So, who am I now?

 

I feel adrift some days,

As though not really here

My body feels distant at times,

On a different plain – a different sphere.

 

I feel so much lighter,

Like I could take off

My spirit floating elsewhere,

My footsteps so soft.

 

m I really still present?

Do I still exist?

What are these strange sensations?

Was there something I missed?

 

I stood before one man,

My face he should have seen

Yet, to him there was no one.

Now what could that mean?

 

This strange and sundry phenomenon

Happens a time or two, at best

But I never know when it will occur

It’s such an annoying little pest.

 

My consciousness ever wanders,

Back to that realm again,

Passing from there to here,

At times they seem to blend.

 

And when I’m there,

The woman’s voice I hear,

Now an ardent song of love

It passes through the atmosphere

Carried by clouds above,

 

My lovely Theiander,

My great golden sun,

I’ll always remember,

You’re my only one,

She says.

 

Then I come back,

The echoes gone,

As from a dream, I awake

The world I know feels foreign again

I should take rest for my own sake.

 

I woke up this morning

And looked in the mirror

My skin was unblemished

My eyes had a glimmer

 

Behind my reflection

A distant scene,

Of that harsh and blistering snow

The shade of the demon who walked with me

Was hidden with eyes aglow.

 

And finally, a notion

I tried to dispel

Am I becoming...as well?


© Copyright 2020 Mel Indin. All rights reserved.

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