Mark R Slaughter
When Evil Becomes You
Even this great mist that drowned the forest,
Relented to Him: grey billows gave, and
flanked servilely as He moved forwards -
towards me - as if passing through befogged pillars
Of a once mighty temple.
Countenance concealed in mystery, His mind
Focussed on mine: thus did I sense that bourdon
Of pure, basal tone resonating deep in my cranium.
And on those sine waves rode His message.
Glint of toneless eye caught my quaking dermis,
Telling Him of my response as I sensed further intentions -
For they stirred new and novel chills in me.
Did I not need to hear them too?
He wanted spoken confirmation unto me:
I must be sundered by His voice of gravitas -
Be audience to His prelude!
Damn His desire to reaffirm such loathed aim - I knew I was His victim!
His comportment reeked with subterfuge, but I already new His want!
And still I let Him come - what else was there?
Succumbing to His steady drift towards me - along perfect line -
I let Him impose His levy.
Soon I would be engulfed; swallowed; deformed
To a new self: what of me then?
What to do, when evil becomes you?
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