Wednesday, March 9, 2011

That which dwells in my soul

I've been having some crazy dreams since midterms have come around. The stress of intense study and the anxiety. Also the loneliness and longing in my soul and revelations about who and what I am. When I sleep, such things come to my mind and I wonder about what I am. Sometimes I think of myself as the shaman or a wild feminine force. The reputation I have on campus is one of reverence and distance to my dark and wily ways. I could care less. And thus my poetic centres are stimulated and my desires are out of control but unsatisfied; for the best though ... All for the best. I hurt and destroy. So instead I write this:

How dare you call me forth from the shadows and hollows! Don’t you know what I am? I am that ancient thing that dwells in the wickedness of man. Will you worship this dark power? Can you freely owe allegiance to something so dank and deadly, earthy and demented. I am mad! My poor delicious mortal, oh how you persist. Will you then let me feed from your soul? I’m thirsty from millennia of denial and missing the blood, the bone, the screams. In this prison I reminisced of past sacrifices in my name … To my bloodlust. I need … I need you …Your blood, your life, your desire. Do you think I will not take you? Do you think I possess such self control? Poor mortal. Free me and I will destroy you but not before such pleasures … You will blissfully die and I will dwindle again until I exist no more, as it was foretold so very long ago.

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