the brume

the brume:

He chose the shallow shadows swirling crushing gripping his soul and in one jolt of electric pain

the shattering sound of hope exploded in my heart.

Twelve days of Christmas joy thrown to the dogs of hell

chasing him all the way down a road with no end in sight.

I hear the demons hot laughter as burning incessant insistent fire

rages through his rotting bones in a torrid expansion of desire.

My tears chase him exhausted blistering at the edge of a pit that no hand can grip

without scorching the flesh dragging all who try to ruin.

I see the murk like the slime of a thousand slugs dripping across his path

as he slips and falls and his will flails.

A nebula of gloom and dusk clouds over his clear eyes

like the brume of erebus blinding him from the light

binding him once again in the darkness known only as

pure unadulterated evil.

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