Incubus

I. (Incubus)

Languid and wanton,

He lies alongside me,

shrouded in sable shadow.

He sighs acidic everythings;

seeping poison that stings my ears

and utterly dazes me.

His arms are my arms;

they constrict and bind me—

a sensual, fiendish embrace.

Supine and inert, I am captive-

held by His wicked charm.

I am His, and He knows it.

He gloats, belching victory

over my half-devoured soul’s remains;

and so begins the task of conception.

When He is done, I am abandoned

to deliver His two favorite sons:

still-born Misery and Deceit.

II. (Return)

Light calls me home—

I would answer the summons

but for His sudden, rebellious hands.

Searing and infinitely pleasurable,

they rend me with violent precision

and remake me in His image.

Too easily, I surrender—

My mind shatters to learn the Gospel of He.

Our blasphemous dance begins anew,

and the Light is forgotten…

Replaced.

The waves of His reclamation

erode my soul to dust;

I am mourning something 

I can no longer perceive.

He is my God and my Sin;

and I am His beseeching slave.

Salvation does not enter here—

in this, our forsaken paradise.

III. (Judgement)

A pyre smolders.

Ashes that once held form slip

through His fingers—

softly, gently—

a morbid mockery of angelic down.

He turns away,

heaving a sigh like a starving man,

patting His over-full belly.

I am His no longer—

only because Death now owns me.

My new Master draws me away

on invisible wings,

and the void bids me welcome—

but Death clings hard to me then,

whispering her almighty conflagration,

“This is my judgment.”

And She burns me

Alive.