A strange unfamiliar feeling erupts deep in my soul. I cannot stay still! I cannot remain here!
I pace the halls and throw a tantrum then stare at the walls in silence. I feel the walls begin to close in my once gargantuan castle. I am suffocating myself with myself!
The walls begin to close in and the lights spark and die.
I choke on my bilish thoughts and slam my wretched body into the door and run wildy in escape. I run with my heart pounding in my chest. I run not knowing the direction. My thighs burn as I slide on trash and filthy debris on the wrong side of town. I end up stopping in a befitting dead -end alley.
I lean into the graffiti walls of the dark abyss just hear the echo of his voice. I scream for him in terror. I bend to my shaking knees now wet and cold. I waver to collapse when he runs to me catching me. spinning me around and around in his arms.
I allow him to hold me as I huddle close to his skin in the rain and smell what is him. I feel his skin warm and wet as warming rain drops slide down my face. I dare not look him in the eye so I look up into the sky but find nothing that sparkles as he. For a fleeting moment my usual hardened mouth cracks and breaks. For just a second I am smiling and laughing again.
Then my kindred swoop with Gargoyle wings down over me. I thrash my hands to keep them at bay but Incubus Dred and Incubus Sorrow claw and shred into my chest for their burrow and command me to return home to my dungeon of torture and chains.
I run without looking back to him. I run back into the night of spectres and shadows. I shuffle my bare feet on the cold barren floor and wearily slide by raw wrists and ankles back into my rusty shackles wincing in my ritual of pain.
I drift of into unconsciousness searching for a punchline to this divine comedy but none can make me heart spill into riotous laughter but he.
No none could make me think there could be even a faint possibility.
None could make me see there is a silver lining in a cloud again, or that the rainbows end is not really the end.
It is not like me to be close to anyone. I sing myself my old lullaby that is better to be alone and try to rock myelf to sleep.
I sing but his voice sings louder into my bleeding ear. My eyes get misty as I gasp realizing every day is better when he is here.
My day begins by the sound of his gentle voice. He is my cup of coffee and sweet sugar of choice.
He is my warm sweater against the icy world of harm. He is a socerer of sorts with who propels a magic charm.
In the evening he is my pillow that softens my weary head He soaks up my thoughts seeping goo of grief and dread.
In the twilight he is my dreams of happiness and love. His voice sing to me just like a turtle dove.
His visage is brandished into my sleepy eyes.
His eulogy of yes you can, why, please, no lies.
He says to take a chance and to believe in him. I scoff and mock and stutter in my own phlegm.
I jump at the sound of a drummer approaching for another battle. I listen to its cadence as I softly place my hand over the rattle.
Over my heart I hear its thundrous mighty roll. I wonder now how I can ever possibly let him go.
The End By Swan Song