I’ll never Forsake such a Kind World

                                   Content 

                                  Breath of fire

                                  The morning star                                                                                      

                                   Fruitful events                                                                                          

                                   The cat’s eyes                         

Breath of fire

Breathe of fire and tame saline by time. Not one bit of truth,

not a hint of regret, non shall fear me for I am strong and

weak and pale and sick.Desden…my birth name. At least what

“they”call me. I was raised by “the nature” , a prestigious

high society, vile, malicious surrogates of elites. I renounce

compassion for all my fellow kinds, for my blood, is but a mere

mortal’s. My mind and soul devoted to “nature’s” quiet

residing place of Lavihana- “The castle of damnation.”

Nature’s “belief in the outcast uncommon pseudo-science

,”The great rain”. As one would refer to it,” the coming of

absolution”, as my cleric defines it. Our church the “shrine

of dies” or hall , a safe haven for the most tortured of beings.

The ” nature” does not exempt anyone who seeks help.

“The nature” called me the “sovereign” for my famed and

estranged horns, erecting from my skull.

The natural and the vilest forces of “mother”, run

through every coarse of my limbs.Sereph the second

highest order to me, was adorned by great wings of

deviation, “my brother in arms” I called out to him

many times, and Angelic, the peak of innocence and

debauchery, a sentiment of erupting peace and a

principal of hectic heresy and my lover and friend”.

“Noted, you are my greatest treasure I could ever

hope to precieve, I will die by your side …own

benevolent one”.

She exclaimed twinkling her eyes as if overtaken

by bliss. “I, the king of the dammed will sufficed

this world with whatever comprador it may inquire.

I’ll never forsake such ample and kind world”.

The morning star

Death at my door step, cold and shivering and

unresponsive, I dolled many times in Satan’s fallen

affairs, he was and beautiful, when he was Gabriel,

but when she was in Hell she was scary and thin

looking. Death was send by God’s decree to end

my miserable existence to defile my holy quest

of revenge.

On the angels that castaway the morning star from

their midst and took on the pact with the vile and

filthy humans the foster sons of Adam and Eve

I won’t leave Satan’s bossom, not for a moment for

he is my true father, not the pretentious crucified

fruit job.

Death will have to wait, for my demise came first.

Fruitful events

A consuming of hurting one’s image always

resides inside us, it’s circular at times, and flat lines

at its peak. He awaited a falling leaf, sitting on a

bench cultivated from foreign, often remote creators,

 an official government one. A blue one with serrated

red edges, inwards was a color of metal warm and

calculated mold. Sluched now, as he fills most chairs

this way.

 Bombarded by half-truths and boring yet excruciating

life experiences, that dealt sadness and regret he

couldn’t pin-point, young and a astute, bewildered

by simple things: Stroller and a mom, an embracing

couple, young dudes, smoking cigarettes and

contemplating last night’s, fruitful events.

His legs dragged him faintly now, the train used

to pass here once, a thunder strike speed.

It slowly advanced to the innocent by standers

as though ready to impact and ruin their day.

Alas a wasteland replaced this vast and hugging

scent of death.

The cat’s eyes

The clock strikes 2 at night now, as an independent

transient, the wretched defiled cabinet of the old

clock’s elliptical synergy has cross tediously. I stand

an say nothing, a feline, snakly encompasses each tile,

as it progress, thinking himself to be invisible. I snatch

it by the tale and embrace him to me “Don’t leave me

you cat of chesire”.

The clock’s ticking delved me into its mesmerizing

derange, “I’ll follow the path of righteousness “I declare

possessively, my spirit was now whole as I cast a flare

into an unsuspecting file, I pull out my trusty knife and

deposit the creature in to my appron’s pocket and run.

The flare deflected on the already flamed couch.

I almost caught the drift of the fire as I flee.

The cat’s eyes linger ceaslessly as the bathroom mirrors

melted and the beautiful curtains, the sequenced one

incinerated as my parents bedroom engulfed in fumes

and ashes.

I perspire continuously and drive my feet down stairs.

The coals were burning my naked legs and arms,

my head over heated and my pretty long hair managed

the flames remarkably.

I raced the steps triumphaly but stumbled at the last one.

My knife dove in to the smoky air, and my hair covered

my eyes, the knife slammed into a certain tile and then

the bad part came.

I raised myself to see that the cat was gone and with it

my knife. I knew this would be the end of me, a tall figure

approached beside me and pulled me by the hair.

It was me and I woke up.

(c) 2015  All rights reserved to Guy Dazin