Upon her breath,
aphonic words she dare no utter,
as darkness did betray the light,
and seep ignominiously into thoughts,
as if a demon whispered clear
her heart became crusted,
unable to interfere.
In mind she clawed
to climb out of this cold dark grave,
but forces held her at bay,
and desperation flailed in disarray,
as panic like a shadow consumed,
those demon words grew louder,
booming hatred in death assumed.
Demon pleasure swirled in circular patterns,
fear his greatest reward,
and death never the measure of joy,
but the suffering that he employed,
his exhilaration, his trembling,
maniacal laughter so poignant,
so sickening in ploy.
She sobbed so beaten,
as if weakness had driven her to lethargy,
but deep inside a light did ignite,
and a thought so trite but possible,
filled her vessel of hope,
and her soul rang out,
no demon can hold that righteous essence.
So she stood up and climbed out of that grave,
the demon taken aback,
fear did subside and so his power waned,
not threats or darkness could entreat her,
and she faced that devil with a menacing scowl,
and bid him return to hell.
She alone in a dark forest,
moonlight dancing upon the bows
and an owl hooted support,
as she wandered free,
blessed by light and sure that she had light within,
enough to vanquish sin, and
the fear that had tethered her.
Tony DeLorger © 2017
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