A Diabolic Conversation

I am not here alone,

I’m not sure what’s here but it’s here.

It’s lurking in the fog.

Behind the smoke. It’s coming to get me.

Moving slow. Taunting me in the shadows.

It knows my name,

and it’s horrid.

It takes me.

Shredding my soul like fabric.

I am paralyzed,

by fear.

If I had a pulse it would stop.

This nostalgia of every earthly decision is

filling me with regret.

I cough and in a moment I’m swimming

in a lake.

But the lake is as lava and I’m boiling.

The screams around me are

a vivid and morbid echo.

A vial creature; indecent.

Naked.

And nightmarish.

Horridly Magnificent.

Terror.

It speaks with vocal chords in a

harmonizing sound.

It thanks me.

And it welcomes me.

To perdition

….. slavery and damnation:

I begin to see every good deed I’ve ever done

and question the creature before me.

He politely answers,

“You should’ve known no one is good enough to escape me.

Wouldn’t everyone be here if everyone was bad,

Would they be here if everyone was good?

For what is the difference of good and bad?

Who is working harder and who is working less?

Who is superior and who is not?

Who is worthy of not being where you stand? And who is?

You wretched fool.

You fool. You think you are? Better than him; the ghoulish soul to the right?

More worthy than her; the ghoulish soul to the left?

Or how about them?

Ask me how you got here, again.”

A prodigal on the run, sojourning further from

the son.

I died. And died again.

And continued to die, again and again.

And realized I was very well alive, but certain

I was very much dead.

And he was right, I was no better than any of them.

Squealing vitals, I open my eyes;

my stomach pumped, and the wounds

sown up.

Swearing I’d figure out a way,

to live instead .

Author notes:

Thank you for reading.

This was written with intent to strike curiosity, to ponder the difference of good and evil, and who the judge of a behavior belongs to.