Sending Me To Hell:
I close my eyes, as the black smoke fills the air.
Incense burned to create a semi-choking sensation.
A tiny inkling of the perceived suffering,
But it is enough to make this difficult...
Next, wounds are carefully opened.
Patterns carved into the flesh,
Resembling the nine circles of suffering.
As each begins to form a red river,
An ocean pools beneath my stained elbows.
In the distance I hear the cackling of witches;
Accompanied always by the mad shrieks of those beyond.
Already they can taste the red wine that I ooze
And eagerly, their tongues wag; anticipating the feast.
Concentrate...I have to concentrate
My teeth grind together, as I force them shut,
The pressure causes my jaws to ache and my body soon stiffens.
It seizes up like an iron vault, my mind its secret mechanism;
Twisting, turning, seeking the accepted combination.
I can feel them now, reaching for me...
Tongues begin to lick at my open wounds,
Lustfully salivating unto my arms;
Their spittle stains the worn carpet,
As their teeth seek purchase in my flesh and bone.
Caught by the miasma of their tainted bretherin,
The demons within me begin to rejoice.
Pushing and straining against their eternal container;
They demonstrate the full weight of their hedonistic tendencies.
Openly, do they bare themselves against the lapping,
Faces forming admist the cracks in the drying blood.
Each twisted into a lustful grin of pleasure;
They personify the libido that I keep in check.
Now I can sense it, even admist this hell of pleasure; The gate before me opens wide.
Like light pulled into an empty void,
My spirit is drawn and cast into its cold currents.
All sensation of life stops;
Not a single breath to be heard nor word to be uttered...
Now, I must awaken. Quickly, before it is too late!
I force these eyes of mine open, a gasp of air filling me;
My chest rises and falls as I stand, barebodied,
With snow falling gently from the sky.
My breath fogs up before me and my feet are quickly numbed,
Yet still I press on, shivering, toward the spire in the distance.
No matter how many times I try to escape, he'll be there waiting for me.
So shrivelled I am, by the that time I reach,
That even he allows himself this feeling of pity.
Tenderly, perhaps as one would care for a sibling,
He wraps a heavy cloak around my chattering shoulders.
His skeletal feature, normally left impassive,
Shift into a mysterious and impossible grin.
"Greetings Soujourner, I am glad to see that you are well..."
-Chen Yuan Wen, 8th January 2013