And the Door Opens

Tumultuous waves pound against the coastline of my heart
And threaten to tear it apart, and I’m frightened
By the sound of the crashing lashing in my mind,
And I find no solace in the silence, no balance in prayer,
And I tear my soul asunder, plundering the depths
To find cure so pure; then the dæmon comes along so sure,
Filled with confidence I lack, whispering in my ear,
So near I can smell his breath of death, but he offers a cure,
Glass of fine red wine that mimics the Cup of Communion,
And he bids me ‘take and drink and think no more of troubles,’
And dæmon offers his stale bread, molded at the edges,
Saying ‘this will not fail to fill; eat and satisfy your hunger,’
And should I try to resist, and insist he leave, but my throat
Tightens and chest heaves; my skin breaks out in cold sweat
For the sins I’ve sown and the debt I own, and I wonder,
‘Who will come and rescue me from this venue of darkness?’
But someone has been here before, it seems, as light
Barely begins to beam through cracks in the wall, and I hear
Footsteps walking down the hall, and dæmon begins to shake
And crawl… ‘Take it!’ he screams ‘Take it now! Eat and drink!’
But I shrink back and wait on the floor as I hear hand on the door;
Someone is on the other side … someone who died but now walks
And stalks austere dæmons of fear without tear of remorse
As he draws near…
And the door opens