Evil has taken me, I cannot breathe and the hours are lost in lust and blood and I weep and wail in a lost corner of my soul.

YOU SAID I HAD an unquiet heart. You said you could hear it beating in the hollow of your grave. You said they did not bury you deep enough. You breached my soul. You drained me. You cast a veil of lust and blood in my heart. My eyes do not perceive you, only the glamour you weave, and I am lost and forsaken, lost in the deep and the dark of the unquiet heart. And if I were God and if I were Gabriel I would not forgive what I have become and yet; I pray, I call out. “Can you hear me, is there no hope of deliverance? Lord,” I weep, “canst thou light a candle in my darkness, strike thee a spark and I will burn it deep in my unquiet heart.”
Evil has taken me, I cannot breathe and the hours are lost in lust and blood and I weep and wail in a lost corner of my soul.
“Is this all there is, can you hear me, can I be saved? Is there no light in darkness?” Something sparked behind my eyes, a flicker of pale blue light and then it was gone.
WHEN EVIL TOOK me in lust and blood it said, I was damned for eternity it said, in the eyes of the world I was just another loathsome thing. “I snuffed out your light, it’s what I do,” it said to the unquiet heart.
I STOOD IN THE courtyard; I stood on the whited ground frost beneath my feet.
I never heard your footsteps; I never sensed your presence
You said they did not bury you deep enough you said they did not impale your heart. “I am retribution,” you said, “evil come to claim more.” You laughed in the shadows, a stray beam of moonlight white on your tongue. You moved and it seemed to me the moonlit shadow moved with you slashing your flesh like a knife.
YOU whirled and danced and sniggered as you advanced towards me thinking me to be fear drenched and mute in your glamour.
YOU SWAYED IN the cold bone-light of the high riding moon, and as you whirled and danced I gave a glad cry and ran to greet you. You smiled with blood in your eyes your tongue flicking out to moisten your lips. You spread your arms, your hands reaching out to pull me into your dreadful embrace. You held me close, your foul breath warm on my neck. I trembled. You whispered throaty and low. I sensed your lips curl back in a snarl. I visioned your alabaster flesh gleaming pale in the moonshine. I shivered. You laughed. I trembled and ere your arms held me fast I pushed you away and before you could recover I impaled you through your heart.
IN the light of the waning moon I dug a shallow pit in the courtyard of the ancient, desolate place. I lay you down with care and love. No one knows where your soul might go, no one knows but God. “Evil is its own reward,” that’s what I heard in a flicker shift of light behind my eyes, “evil is its own reward.”
The night was cold and empty, the barren place festering like an unhealed wound in mysoul, grew warm and still. There is a price to pay for redemption there is always a price to pay and I eager to earn the tariff.
I could not stop, the night was wearing thin, I dare not stop. And when I deemed I had gathered enough I feverishly searched for more, building the flames higher and higher until the fire roared and reduced your bones to ash. I am not forsaken. I asked and was forgiven but oh my unquiet heart.
LATER, IN THE rising light of the sun I gathered what was left of me and I fled and still I flee, the ache in my soul unceasing. Wondering if a part of me had always known our dreadful love bereft of glamour one day would leave me creeping and crawling through the fetid, stinking alleys of the night until I perish, until finally in horror and self loathing at what I have become. I build a great fire and immolate the unquiet heart.
I was forgiven but I cannot forgive myself.
I was redeemed but I can never quite grasp redemption.
He said he could hear my unquiet heart in the hollow of his grave.
Evil is its own reward.
POST SCRIPTUM: Only god can know where a soul might go when light carries you home.