RIP

Farewell, Little Demon

Farewell, Little Demon

I'll call it a shadow,

this thing beating on the window.

My name, it whispers so softly,

until a shiver along my spine spins loftily.

Like a web that ensnares my breath,

this shadow hangs like a weighty wreath.

It's like a soul with a heart so still and so cold,

it's spindly fingers ever reaching for a solid hold.

Its eyes move but do not see,

it spins, and dodges, and remains unseen.

A little demon whispering in my ear,

a latch, a hook, a claw when I hear.

When its voice gives taste of sweet addiction

soon I find congealed an affliction,

and only prayer causes it to shift,

only prayer manages it to lift.

When all the world turns dark like a flood,

I can feel it drawing deep within my blood.

My heart grows heavy, beating slow with weight,

my eyes grow weary, seeded low as though with age.

The shadows stretch with poison and infect me, 

  and the disturbing cold of them riles and troubles me.

Such a bird, a flock, a murder of black,

such a hurt, a thought, an insidious attack.

Like a great wave crashing upon me

when I rest and cave to the entity,

I fall into the shadow headfirst,

and find my soul shrinking with thirst.

Ever I crave the things I see,

ever I grow restless as though I cannot breathe.

A whisper argues the plight of Why's,

telling me such partaking is relief of sighs.

I wish for my prayer, my candlestick flame,

lit warm with golden glow and revealing the shadow's aim.

Now I see with my prayer's soft light;

the shadow loses power and takes flight.

Farewell, little demon,

my angel bids me on.

Farewell, little demon,

my Lord leads me on.

12.2.2011