In Day 1
t is a dim, quiet room
Outside we only assume
Reason is losing his patience
Light is sad and lost his luster
Love gave way to hate's muster
Joy is still, no energy left with her
Sadness put up his feet
Hate gets louder
Fear with his laughter
Darkness plays music to fill our ears
I hear a knock and a voice
"I'm still hear!"
I run to the door
a scream from fear
shriek from hate
The door is opened
for something great
a fiery presence
unequal essence
Darkness, Sadness,
Hate, and Fear
tremble and scatter
His warmth alone
drives them off
He is here to stay
Hope is never far away.
About the Creator
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Two Wrinkles In Time
It is pointless to run, my darling, because sixty seconds ago, I will kill you. My blade will have sliced reality open right in front of you. It will have first pierced it as it would a bed sheet left hanging to dry, flapping in the wind on a Sunday afternoon. But the metal will have drawn a line in the air that the ghostly tear will have followed. Then I, La Dyablès, machete firmly in hand, will have emerged from what your mind, at the time, could only interpret as the other side of here—whatever that means to you. I know. I have seen that look on the faces of countless unlucky… clients. You will not have been the first nor the last to try and reneg on a riches for soul contract only to present this visage to me when I come to collect.
By Lily Séjor5 days ago in Fiction
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