This prose poem on one's inner daemons was inspired by Invisible Wounds by Fear Factory and the Abyss quote by Nietzshe.
I had no particular Claymore in mind as I wrote this and I think it actually is more intense without attaching a particular character, as this struggle could be applied to any of them.
Regular
Youma talking
"Claymore talking"
One day I fell to temptation
and I looked into the void.
Recoiling in the horror,
I saw my own face
in the dark and loneliness.
-
Demonically, it smiled,
my face, looking back at me.
As her skin stretched,
I felt the stretching
of my own sanity.
-
"Gods, oh gods,
Heavens protect me!"
I called into the darkness,
but there was no one,
no one to hear me scream.
-
Mocking laughter rang out
stinging in my ears.
As the face began to change,
warping into the Youma
that hid inside of me.
-
The Youma spoke
with a mouth full of teeth,
Fool, there is no one to hear,
no one but you and me.
-
"Let me go, let me go!"
I cry into the void.
I can't let you go
now that your soul is mine.
-
I cannot help it,
As tears run down my face.
Yes, despair!
The end for you is soon.
-
"No, no! I will not submit!"
I rage against the darkness.
Anger and hate,
just more fuel for the fire.
-
Confusion sets in
as I consider my fate.
I cannot resist,
yet I cannot submit.
-
"ENOUGH!"
-
The Youma now looks on
fear etched on it's face.
I realize I have but one hope
to survive to see
another day as myself.
-
I reach out to that face
as it tries to turn away.
"I don't need to submit
or even resist you.
I simply can coexist."
-
What! No! That can't be!
You cannot coexist with me!
But even as it spoke,
the face moves closer
and is absorbed into me.
-
I open my eyes
looking up at the sky.
So this is the world?
"Aye and I'll show you,
you need not fear it or me."