| Servant to the Dark |
| So she had lain in the dark for god knows how long. She was in a hell of her own creation. One she could not be free of. It had begun with such simple, meaningless words: I wish you'd die. From whose mouth had these words fallen? Someone who knew too much about her. Someone with far too much hate. Someone whom she had loved. They had whispered words of loathing into her hear while she slept and shred by shred began to strip away her pride, her dignity. They took her tears, and savoured the pain each contained. They would hit her. And mock her when she fell at their feet. She never cried in front of them after they raped her tears. She never begged them to stop. She never begged. There was a kind of faith burning inside her. It singed her heart adn made her oblivious to anything that wasn't distorted by that cruel love. Oblivious to the damage being done, her mind began to deteriorate. It absorbed too much abuse. She began to dance; to pretend thta nothing was wrong, nothing was out of place. Slowly, her mind began to block the world out. Fade to black. She faded with it. Going to a place where she would never stop suffering. Her body continues to dance and she wears a plastic smile. Her eyes are dead. Just like her mind. She silently cries herself to sleep each night, wishing she was someone else. She goes to sleep wishing she didn't feel the utter loneliness that she now does. He keeps her. He bruises her. And now, she doesn't really care. Because she's in a place all by her self, where her soul is being eaten away. Where she has gone mad. But even in her dark hell, she dances, as the tears fall from her eyes, to roll down her plastic cheeks. And so she remains a servant to the dark which has captured her soul. -end (May 2nd 2000) |