Pale Rider - Black despondency 3

Open mouthed alone in the pouring rain I felt my heartbeat quicken, impaled with an intensity I had never, ever felt in my life.1

It felt as if my body was being compressed just like I had been placed inside a meat grinder spewing away the future I would never have and then as fast as he had caught my breath and squeezed it from my healthy, lively, lungs my heart beat slowed in tempo my blood no longer rushing at a sped I could not comprehend. It flowed smoothly, soundly like a tranquil breeze, like the spring air carrying me down river to normality. 2

I stood alone in the wretched wind, knowing that somewhere nearby it had snowed it reminded me harshly of the ice caps inside the cave he had taken me to and as I looked up at the flickering lights dulling into the morning fog I could hear the distant call of a frosty, Sunday welcoming me, beckoning me from the dusty clouds and into the arising sunlight.3

It was morning now and death had left me breathing, shaken and trembling. My lips were a swollen, chapped mess, a mix of ice and blood rich and daunting never in all my short years of life had I ever experienced such a feeling inside of me.4

He had leaked death within me and from my every pour now I could not even fathom the fact that I was still alive, all my clothing still in tact just the bitter winds of winder and a peak of sunlight being the only constant reminder that I was still here that I was alive; a reminder non the less that I worshiped with my every shaken, hoarse breath.5

I had a feeling that lingered in my loins one that caused me to ache, to burn, igniting a cruel sense of stimulation and awareness of my every surrounding. It was not the feeling of his skeletal nails deep within the layers of my creamy, White, flesh or the visions, memories, flashed even of the ice-capped cave in which he had shown me death in a short glory. 6

No this was a feeling of hunger that was rushing through me like poison to escape through my body, filling me up with a flurry of arousal, craving of a carnal power, it was like I was on top of the world and no-one could stop me, like I was invisible to the human race yet in the hole of my thumping heart I felt alone, desperate,wanting as if death had claimed meas his own to do his tidings demonic or pure.7

I clung to that feeling like an infant to its mothers breast. It was natural almost a second nature if you will and it fed and fueled me making me churn with a desire and a feeling my melancholy heart was yet to understand. Then as I was left with a heavy presence the sun moving, crawling and calling up over the run-down buildings nearby I suddenly felt a rush of overwhelming feelings, of dead bathing me causing me the uttermost sadness in the depths of my aching, fiery heart.8

The grim had taken something from me something of great importance. It was as if he whispered terrible cries of past generations that surrounded me; there was defiant sadness in their words knowing that I had disappointed my ancestors. He had taken something sacred from me, that and he had taken my soul I had known it from the moment his mouth had left mine. My spiritual connection with the world was long gone into the winds and most likely into the depths of hell.9

For I was innocent, not that I ever expected an event like this to occur, not at all, but this I knew was certain; I was his possession weak and innocent and he owned me.10


He had taken apart of me with him upon that fatal moment of despair, that moment of blood-shed and sensual arousal and as I lifted my fingers lacing them, grazing them across my cracked lips I began to understand the frozen touch that death had cast like a spell, it was much deeper than a literary cry from a poetic genius, that no poet or human alone would ever be able to analyze, it was more like a march that I had to take and step to take in becoming one of his slaves.11

He had cast a spell of devotion, of affection unholy and tainted as cruel as it was. There was no warmth and no admiration just a tragic possession that coursed its way through my blood thickly, both toxic and tasteful; yes with his touch of cruelty and death the Grim has ruptured me with a discouraging infatuation.12

I had fallen in love with the demon on a higher court totally, utterly and madly in love.