I looked upon you with desire; a passion of pure fire
Your flames drew me closer; curiosity fused with admiration
An essence of pure intrigue and excitement
Dancing about in my eyes; swirling beyond the reality of my mind
The immense heat your smile creates in me is all that matters
But the closer I get; the further away I feel
Where comfort was meant to be; only the pain of the burns reside
Every step tore away a piece of me; and revealed the truths in you
I still saw the brightness that lured me here; but also the sad sensibility
Lost was the mystery; replaced by a revelation
You were the lantern promising warmth in a frigid darkness
And now the light that guides me to you hurts just as much as the hollowness
The sting of cold pales in comparison to the flare; the engulfing horizon
Yet I cannot look away; forever drawn to you
One more step; another bit of me taken apart
I’m left now with blinded vision and scorched emotions
Holding my fantasies together in my hands; losing what brought me here
Flesh and desires; beauty and brightness
I held such hope in you
Now I hold only the flames of your memory
Laugh now my sweet; rejoice in the calm
You can rest your troubled mind; your threadbare heart
A battle was fought before you
Pure kindness prevailed; a gift given to this world
You stood before a mountain of chaos; yet triumph was never a doubt
The scars will forever be a reminder; of strength and spirit
Against all doubt and odds
The purity of your love conquered; a simple truth
A body left broken; a resolve now unlike all others
Champion of a cherished place
A temptation of anger from deceit born before you
True courage in evading those feelings; bloodless wounds heal
Reckless self-indulgence took parts of you away; stole virtue by force
Yet you chose a better path; a way to forgive
Protector of pure thought and innocence
A foolish attempt at weakening your will; a fool most of all
You’ve always been better; and invariably must so be
This will not be your sole conflict; nor only victory
Lead us down the path of calmness
And remember to laugh
Ride swift and true; young lady of freedom
Messenger of the night; protector of the land
Your expeditious journey will deliver us from tyranny
Every call you make beckons our finest; for they will stand together
The line you travel becomes the boundary they defend
Courage reserved for those much older; residing in your spirit
Fear shall never keep the pace
You push hard in the face of insurmountable odds; a warrior of vigor
A love for family and country stands true against evil
History may let your bravery slip away; but you will have our gratitude
Forever remembered as the true courier of warning
Daughter of a soldier; child of independence
Bold was born into you
Let us rekindle your honor; a people worth of thanks
No man could match your fabled pace
You were just but a child; galloping through the shadows
Delivering us from oppression; amassing an army in your wake
Ride swift and true into our hearts
Your voice calls out to me; from somewhere in the shadows
Urging me to find you in this emerald expanse
Not because you need me; but for what you hoped to offer
A centered place of mending peace; of healing for a broken spirit
I have nothing to give you but love in return
The display of ebullient colors only faintly dampened by the darkness
No ill thoughts dwell there; true amity between our hearts
Anguish and burden are turned away; as the embrace takes hold
My body in tune with the touch; vines slowly tightening grip
Becoming one with that place you hold dear
It’s only now I realize you’re but one of many; a consortium of beings
A bringer of new life; of choices
An angel of colors and comforts
Each touch takes me further away from the pain; into your tangled arms
Reborn among the roots and the blossom
What grows around now too grows within
Your profound kindness brings reawakened intensity; feelings long thought lost
I owe you a forest’s worth of treasure for your simple touch
A bountiful reward for the thoughtless affection you gave
But love is all I have; I hope that is enough
I held it all in my hands; as it slipped away
Forged by the fires of a burning end; a woeful mistake
It felt right to my touch
A sudden grasp upon a phantom of feelings; the ghost of deception
Deceived by attraction and attention
Shaped by my desires; becoming what I needed most
Your truth untold; veiled under the vanity of connection
I saw the world through you; a place I wanted us to be
The emptiness that is you; lost in those thoughts
You never wanted what I offered; something to fill the void
The closer I tried to be; the further the gap became
My hand gripped tighter around it; fearful of loss
Hopeful for a future that would never be
The cold empty hollow where our love should have been
A glass shattering under the pressure
Carving away my innocence; slicing away the curtain of falsehood
Every shattered piece of you a reminder of the cuts you deliver unto me
My blood glistening upon each shard; highlighting your betrayal
I see the truth of you now; spread out before me
Yet, why am I the one who feels so broken?
The bare space that you once filled is where I held my desires
I gave to you my insecurities and my fantasies; filled in the shallows
It was there I kept myself; needing you to hold me together
But you never wanted what I could give; you took until there was nothing left
You used what I gave to cut me down; an imposter wearing a mask of my love
Using tragedy to explain away your own awful actions
The mind knows to let you go; but hands not so sure
A love borne of a woeful mistake
Haunted by the specter of deception; and of hope
I wanted this to be something else
But was left with only a bit of broken glass and confusion
Somewhere between dying and death he appears. A phantom of unbelievable horror disguised as a man cloaked in shadows; shrouded in blackened wings granted by God himself, yet tainted by the sins of angels and man. A brittle balance forged long ago by one of just many like him. Rather by swarm or single entity, their appearance means one last judgment; one final journey. They hold a right of choice to decide whether you toil in listless abandon until saved by the living or perish as though nothing more than dirt. Your grandiose opulence is worth as much as the poor man’s empty hands when he comes for you. Kings, heroes, villains, and even the innocent babe have been carved by his wicked blade and cord of judgment. Pray that you are ripped from the world of the living and given one final chance at redemption; pray that you are loved enough to be prayed for. If not, you shall simply cease to be at the end of iron or rope. And it is a moment in which he finds himself once more; another in infinite.
“Others are suffering more than you. Your pain is not that bad.” he says as he is yet to fully appear before a dying man; a haunting voice emanating from a dark fog forming in the man’s vision.
“Who…wha….are you?” croaks the man through the blood now building in his throat and lungs. The world he was once in now vanishing before him.
“Pray for deliverance with your final breath and you shall soon know. Or do not. This is your final choice before I make my own.” said the voice once again, now much more defined.
“I’m…I’m afraid….I don’t want to die!”
“It’s much too late for that now. Make your amends, accept it, or not. As I said, the choice is still your own for now.”
But the scene was clear to him now as the man came closer to death. There would be no true chance at redemption from a man who lived a life of reckless aberrance. Every choice the dying man made was a step closer to this moment without him ever realizing it. He lived by pushing the boundaries for the simple intoxication of adrenaline. And now he would die for it due to a terrible motorcycle accident on a dusty highway; in the place he was no longer completely a part of.
“Are you…are you a demon?” asked the dying man.
“No. I’m an angel.” the Memitim said, now fully materialized in his near-human form, twisted black wings on full display behind his back.
“An…angel? You’re here to…save me?”
The Memitim let out an exaggerated audible sigh while placing his hands behind his back.
“I’ve already given you that chance, my friend. But you’re running out of time.”
One hand held the hilt of his blade, hidden away; the other brilliantly corded twines of rope. He had yet to decide which would be used. One meant an existence erased forever and the other one final chance in a plain of empty sadness.
“You must hurry now. I’m not the only one who comes for you.”
“Who…who else will come? Can they…save me?” the man’s eyes lit up in an almost unnoticeable manner at this revelation had the Memitim not seen it a countless number of times before.
“We do not save and neither do they. What is your choice?”
“Fuck you, devil.” said the man.
So the sword had been chosen for him, which made no difference to the Memitim. The defiance of the man is what doomed him to the obscurity of no longer existing. His tongue gave up the chance at reaching paradise. The arm that held the blade was now firmly above his head, ready to strike down and enact judgement on the dying man. But before the blow could be delivered, a haunting and familiar sound of daunting drums became apparent somewhere further out in the landscape of fog now fully surrounding them.
“I tried to warn you; to give you a chance at an easy way out. But now look what you’ve done. Do you honestly think you’re worth it to me to fight for your soul?” the Memitim said while looking deep into the dying man’s now glossy eyes. “You better hope they take you before I do.”
Through the sounds of ancient drumming came the thunderous rumbling of horses, perhaps dozens of them. The Memitim transformed himself from the image of a man with an angel’s wings to something much more sinister; his true image that was reserved solely for battle with other soul reavers. The depraved visage of a human skull replaced his unremarkable face, while his body became a tangled mess of flesh, muscle, and dark fabric flowing like a doomed whirlpool. He grew in size, as well, to something much more daunting and prepared to do battle with multiple relentless enemies. His wings, too, grew to much more impressive size and he used them to float now above the dying man’s body in a defensive posture as he awaited the wretched horsemen.
Be gone, psychopomp! This wayward soul is ours to return to life anew! If not, you too shall perish here!
“You do not frighten me, minions of Yama. Come now and let us fight for it.”
The massive form of a dozen warhorse now trotted out of the darkness into the opening created between the worlds of the living and the lost; the battlefield of death. The Memitim was no stranger to this band of Yamadutas, Yama’s agents, and knew of their relentless determination. For a moment upon seeing their forms before him, just below, he yearned for his own kind to be beside him. But they were not and he was alone in this skirmish. A fight now would spell only trouble for him and he knew it. Another choice would have to be made; and soon.
You fool! You are alone and we are immense. Is this simple life worth your own?
“There is no life here. There is only choice. He made his and I am to make my own. You will not stop me from doing so any further.”
The Memitim, knowing that he could not survive such a conflict alone, spun his sword in his hand and flung it towards the dying man’s body; striking him in the chest and piercing through his very being. The man’s body instantaneously evaporated into the very fog that surrounded them all.
No! You’ll pay for that mistake with your own cursed blood!
“I think not, horsemen.”
He simply allowed himself to be engulfed into the clouds, as well, as the Yamadutas began their angry charge towards him. Though they threw spears and shot arrows towards his evaporating form, none of them would do damage now as he was lost in the mist. There was no shame in avoiding such a fight, as he had accomplished what he had been tasked to do. A judgement had to be made and he did so. It did not matter whether or not any of the Others would be angered. Yama was strong, but ultimately unremarkable in the grand story of this endless narrative. It was only logical to avoid another battle of the faiths when the prize meant so little to any of them. There would always be another soul to fight over; that truth is a constant.