Heart In The Mire
The night grew lonely under the star enchanted sky, and the moon cast its silver beams on my sorrowed face. I wondered if perhaps the time was nigh that I should take myself within the comforts of my home, out of the frigid coldness of the night and into the womb like warmness of my den.
Here, within, I often squander on my desk with a lack of anything else better to do. I think more than not, for what has a person to do when thing weigh heavily on their mind. I ponder what things my future holds and fear what it is I know shall come.
Tonight, even among the soothing heat of my den, I am colder than usual. A chilling of my bones uneasily compliments the emptiness within my soul.
For years, as it were, I have felt empty; a vast abyss inconceivable to those cynical and naive. Betrayal? Corruption? Malice? These words mean nothing next to isolation from within. These are toys next to the big guns of guilt and conscience.
To date the only that seems to fill that darkened void inside me is the obscurity of things gone askew. It is filled with the morose days and the terrors of the night. Questions I batter myself with. Meaningless question: Will the apocalypse come? Will Armageddon be late? Will man have massacred themselves before they see what they are doing? Will I allow myself to be beaten by my enemies?
In my eyes, a silver moon is of no beauty. Instead, its glowing light simply shines as a reminder that we all die and that everything is lost in death. For the moon is sin and it radiates upon us all.
So I brood over a many great things that tackle and dance throughout the plains of my mind. Things have been as I described since the day I lost the one I love. Oh yes, my summers have been colder and Spring has been lost in the death of Fall. I have precious little time left on this planet. What is there left to me, anyhow? This house? My body? What of my mind? Soul? Did those, both mind and soul, go down with her, my darling Felicia? She is all I think of. She is who I remember. Yes, she is that who causes my days and weeks to swim in agony. Agony and concrete remorse. My twilight hours mirror that of the damned and are spent in the beating of my breast and gnashing of my teeth. I can and have beaten myself black and purple with bruises, but nothing, I say, nothing, can stop the atrocitiy of death and nothing could stop the moon from shining its seeds of sin within us! It is a devils game we are in. We would be used as pawns in the frigid hand of Hades' scornful grasp! I was a pawn, and I surrendered to the hand that pushed me.
Oh, how I long for her gentle touch and tender caress. To once again be livened by her scent of sweetness. To stare into her eyes of rapture. To hear her voice of reason and want in my life, a sugar for my ears to indulge on. It saddens me so that an anger, a rage burns within me and questions could never satisfy the lingering ignorance.
The tears glissade down my cheeks. Once more I admit to myself the malice of my acts. I admit with a lowliness of heart, more of a heart sunk in the mire. I cry as I might for the loss of Felicia and I see, no, I smell the bitterness of blood, crimson honeyon my hands. Time has abandoned me and I cannot remove that event which took place those nights ago. It was my doing. It was my fault. I took my darling Felicia's life much like the reaper takes the soul. Rather, I stole her life. My spirit was gone, and like a pawn, I was pushed. The seed that bore the most foulest of weeds was topped by an elegant flower, and thusly my true nature had been nothing but concealed.
I have a vision: The two of us, young and in love, roam about atop a hill. The grass is green and moist between our bare toes. Together, we hold a love for each other deeper than any abyss. A love not understood by those around us. Kisses mean so much more, we share souls when together, we become one. But all so suddenly the sky blackens. The clouds shift and grow with a rush as gray rolls in. Clashes of lightning are fortified by the explosion of thunder. The grass dies and dries up, stabbing at the sole of my feet. Worst of all . . . Felicia is once again gone and my stomach plummets to the ground as I am enveloped in tears. But, what is it that I hold in my hand? A knife? It does not shimmer in the opaque atmosphere. It would not for it is laced with life giving blood.
Then the memories flood back to me as if the very floodgates of heaven had been blown assunder and crashed upon me. Why had I done such a heinous act? She came to me scared and frightened. She bore bad tidings. The labor of our love and the seed of her death.
My seed.
I acted so foolishly. I had pesonified the foulest of demons. I had no will to admit to her pregnancy. She stood in silence, perhaps terror, as I went about like a roaring lion. She did nothing as my violent intentions revealed themself to her. Felicia had hardly struggled as I plunged the tip of the blade into her heart and then spitefully into her womb, killing also the child I had so despised. Irate, I dragged her body to the grave yard behing my house, fully aware that I had committed the gravest of sins and caring none the less.
What of these tears? Why do I cry? I hold my head in my hands and weep. I weep like an infant with no one to love him. A freezing air lays seige to the room and I run out into the night, away from the sanctuary of my house. I run to the grave yard, the moon fully gazing upon me. I pass stone crosses and other ornaments of the dead and go to where my sweet Felicia lie sleeping. I smile through the tears as I see I had prepared another grave next to hers. The pitch black hollowness sends chills coursing through the length of my back. I had foun one way to show her an act of love and mercy.
"Here lies Felicia, my love, my life. I am putting you to sleep in my mind. Never to thought of again, never to torment."
Now standing with my back to the empty grave, I commit my final sin. The same knife that peirced the heart of my love, does likewise to mine. I feel pain but briefly and I feel my body collapse into my eternal resting place. The moon coldly fades away as my life does, yet my heart had died long ago as it drowned in the mire.
