5-15-04
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Who are you, and what do you want?” I hear myself saying, to whom I know not. Diabolical laughter ringing in my ear, Branding my image and strength’ning my fear. “Get away from me, you tool of Satan!” But the voice just laughs more, ‘till I feel like taking My own life from myself, lest I hear the damned more And reopen a still never-healing sore. “What did you say?” he cackles and sneers. “A servant of Infinite?” the worthless cur jeers. “I am!” I announce, my voice sounding squeaky, Not knowing why now I feel so needy. How had I begun this? My stomach now tight’ning As thoughts come before me like flashes of lightning. How dare a mere human, of me the likes Dare to draw near to a daemon’s sights? How had I done this? Is this suicide? Or is this for Infinite, in whose court I’ll abide? I understand not what my fate shall become. But in life or in death, this is what I have done. “In the name of the Infinite, I command you to leave!” I shout with resolve, though I wait to receive My death from this unknown, uncaring foe My heart, its beating—so fast, yet so slow. I hear a terrified screech, like one struck by swords And at once, for certain, I know that these wars Against daemons, and all the Destroyer’s foul kind, Are forever won by the Infinite’s bind. My battle is over. My hope is assured. No longer need I dare if I have the nerve To enter His gates, for now others proclaim That I’ve fought the good fight in the Infinite’s name. |
I don't really know why I wanted to do this one. The Infinite is kind of like a fantasy medieval kind of way of portraying God. Oh, and, "damned" is a real word, and I used it properly, so don't go whining at me about it. I didn't use it as a swear. I discovered with that poem why my big brother Brian liked to write in the first person. It really is easier.