Night Falls Fast

Night falls fast, as the last blue sky is murdered by stormy clouds. He sits by his window, contemplating the water fall. A warm cellphone is trapped by his clustered fingers. “Night does falls fast” he thinks. She asked him how he was doing. He couldn’t tell really, even telling to himself was hard. He had to use dark and strange words that would not make any sense. But if he absolutely had to describe the way he felt, he would say he felt like a Swordfish about to be fished, gutted, and eaten, and for the first time in his life, he is aware of his own being and consciousness. But it is only a quarter of what he feels, the rest, there are no words to describe it. And that makes him cry a tear or two, and also break into laughter. But most of all it digs a hole in the middle of his heart. And there is a funny feeling, a certain uneasiness that stops him from staying still for more than one second.

Icy sweat on the back of his neck (she kissed him on the back of his neck..) and the storm keeps on falling, tearing up the sky with lighting. A sudden rush to go and run as fast as he cans flows through his brain. Maybe the cold water would make him feel better, maybe he just needed to run and let go of that haunting feeling. But if he leaves, he won’t come back tonight, and God knows where his feet will take him eventually. All along that crooked way where even angels fear to tread, all along the way that leads to destruction. “Destruction of what?” he asks to himself. “Of my oath, my body, my soul (My Heart?) or of all of me?”

Then a sudden wave of new feeling hits him. Above them all, there is a spark that screams “Desolation” and another that spells “Solitude.” And as dark settles into him, he feels so painfully alone. Rain pours down with unbelievable strength. And it is not like the storms of his old island, where they were fresh, quick, and warm. They were cozy storms. No, this storm is walls of freezing water that keep light at bay. And he is slowly isolated from everything. Even the beautiful Lady of Light seems so far away now. Everything seems so far away. And he knows that soon all the skeletons in his closet and all the monsters under his bed will rise. Soon all hell will break loose inside of him, trapped in darkness and coldness. No time to turn loose the swans, no time to save beauty and good. It will come.

 

He can hear the Siren sing

Your heart burns for love

My soul burns for blood

I’ll take you, I’ll break you

I’ll crush you, I’ll break you

If you want me, I’ll need you

I’ll kill you, feed from you

I’ll take you down that road

That leads to destruction

Come and take a walk with me

Where the angels fear to tread

Kiss the flame, feel the pain

In the furnace of our love

I can’t feed my hunger

Your youth makes me younger

I’ll hurt you, desert you

Turn your dreams to nightmares

I’ll cheat you, I’ll eat you

I’ll maim you, I’ll drain you

Come to me, come to me

To the dark side where love sleeps

I’ll hurt you, you’ll love me

I’ll scratch you, I’ll cut you

You’ll kiss me, then miss me

I’ll laugh at your torment

I’ll have you, and own you

Be hard and cold to you

I’ll be your dark angel

I’ll be your worst nightmare.

Will there be a swan-song for this wolf? Maybe it is better to turn loose the swans and fly away with them. Fear and anguish are like a claw that gently, maybe even too gently, scratches his back. Just waiting, waiting for the warm rush and the pleasant shiver. Waiting for that moment to choke all this vistas an devour all and left nothing behind (not even a swan-song). Rain seems like frozen, paralyzed lines traced in smoke. All the haunting will begin soon. Haunt… someone once told him that a haunt was where some animals fed on their prays or something like that. This darkness was the haunt, and they will feast on him. And the dreadful Siren (not a Mermaid, for Mermaids are gentle) keeps singing a sweet dirge for him. But that will be all, just a dirge and no requiem. If anyone, only the Lady of Light will sing a requiem. 

“I will all be over soon” a sweet voice says. He wants to believe that voice, he wants to believe that everything will turn out fine. But the ancient fear lies there, adorned in such delight and pain. He want to believe, but “It will…” the rotten feeling “… all be…” inside creeps “alright.” and shades away all glimmers of hope.

“I’ll need you. I need you. I’l miss you, I miss you. I need you, Lady of Light.” he mutters to the falling rain, praying for the wind to carry his words to her. Night falls fast, night has already fallen. Will he rise with the morning anew?

- Dark Shadow!