Consequential Nemesis

The clouds come down again to covet the evil,
In spirals they descend, raging and rattling, heavy as the rain they bear.

Caught red-handed, purity now cemented,

The Furies of self-loathing come to plague the blackened heart.

Slithering down like serpents infuriated,

Seeking to spread the spawn of disease created,

Their voices whisper the name, laced with the stinking breath of rotten guilt.

In the maze of the mind the blood stained prints tell the Fury jury,

That the pestilent madness is at reign, dissolving the lines of reason,

Like spiders spinning frantically their web of woe around their retired foe.
 

Time stands still from night the rabid Gray hounds of penitence are released and onwards.

Licking their frothing jaws and plunging their sharp paws into the mind’s ground,
They rampage past fathomless crevices where virtuous memories hide, to corner your naked fears,

Feeding them starkly before rapaciously starting to ravage all but jagged bones and prickling thoughts.
 
Time stands still from night the rabid Gray Hounds of Penitence are released and onwards.

Eternal and immortal, 'tis the vicious circle of crippling Consequence, and its bestial Hydra sibling Nemesis.

The nth life

I awake; eyes open wide, ears pierced back, I lay still for a while and take in the damp dense air. It smells like victory tonight.
I creep; silently, dauntingly, down the roof and over the lines of fences in the deadest hour of the night. It is now my moment to thrive.

I search; in utter stealth, clandestinely for the gifts of the dark. I am omniscient and dominantly alone to reap the rewards of the nth life.

The moon is not full yet, but it’s seductive smirk gazes down on me and the excitement pumps through my veins. The cold is bone gnawing, but the lustrous Gray coat is adequate still.

The chase is imminent. The time is drawing near. The suspense glorifies the means, and the end feels tangible at the waking of the kill.

I pounce; muscles poised and mind overcome by fathomless complexities, fear and desire become one in a dangerous dance.

'No can' resist. 'No can' rebel against nature. Give in.

Derange. 

Destroy. 

Devour.

The nth life is finally up as the thick, metallic taste of hot blood rises in my mouth.
My deathless whisper of triumph echoes over the life’s final reverberating breath.

I curl; under the strobe of the sinister lunar lantern in the black sky and revel in the debaucherous nature of the act.
I stride away; panting and shaking and intoxicated by the adrenaline that makes me whole once again.

I can now retire; body boldly bared, and soul feeling free.
For I no longer have secrets; the secrets have me.

No sermons are heard, no laments being sung; bereavement has no place here. The moon's celestial smirk widens in grander approval as her child has done well and the dawn is irrevocably near.

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"Nature is often hidden; sometimes overcome; seldom extinguished."

Sir Francis Bacon - Of Nature in Men