A cold shell of bones is all that remains to hold what once cherished the rising sun, the cool touch of water on my lips and the warmth only a woman could kindle in what once was a beating heart.
These bones are at the mercy of a puppeteer, unbeknownst to me, filling the role of Death, shredding the souls from flesh with a wicked hatred. Or shall I say possibly jealousy, like the Angels from Gods kingdom.
I wait for the moment when I can transcend into the Heavens and ask for forgiveness from my sins...........or maybe Im just getting started.
Forgiveness? For what, I ask that of what remains human inside this vile form of a beast that was not intended to walk this earth. But as Im forced to watch through these withered eyes, I am not alone. The chill in the moonlit world comes not from the heat escaping the canopy of darkness, but from the others who have lost their souls to the vacuum of evil!
Have they no remorse! Have they forgot from whence they came ! The Lord our God may have the righteous power to elect those into his Kingdom of Heaven. But I.......... I WILL DECIDE WHO IS FIRST IN LINE.
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Though I was not a very religious person when I walked amongst them, I have found myself drawn to the stained glass mosaics listening now to the words of God at the evening services. There I hunger to hear more while trying to silence their beating hearts that floods the walls of my thoughts.
Normally I have to flee from the torment that we all get when aroused by that ebb and flow of liquid life.....but not tonight. I heard the words "All are welcome to the Lords table......."

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I positioned myself in the comforting shadows, even though the moon was full of deep secrets only to be spilled on those willing to share her loneliness. Alone yes, scared.....no. Neither crucifixes, Holy Water or The Lords Word threatens what remains holding me here. Shame, disgust and the desire to be loved once more is a pain that seems to never end. To be welcomed once more b.,
Then he spoke to me, the voice projected from the warm soft lit doorway straight through the shadows from which I was waiting to be noticed, " You know, you can hear much better from in here my friend."
Now, THAT!!!! is what I was waiting to hear................
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A rather barrel bellied old man, with a full head of graying wavy hair and a very prominent moustache that was waxed into "handle bars" came forth into the moonlit night. Well into his late 70's, I could sense no fear, his blood beat strong and steady. He repeated himself and added " Ive known now for quite sometime you hovering close to the pulpit from outside the windows.......oh yes, the moonshadow from which your hiding in now, lol, painted your silhouette upon those windows." He paused for my response and I offered none.
He turned starting to draw the heavy wooded door and I heard him sighing as he said " God is with you son."
"With me", startled by the crackling whisp of my own voice Im assuming "Is this withered shell that hungers for the taste of blood that is clutching to the hope that "God" will strike it down and pardon whats left of my decaying soul? If He is with me, then there is no hope for man, old fool!" My hand was already upon the door and turning his shoulder. "Look me in the eyes and tell me if YOU see God........."
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That when I felt the burning pain as it started from a single point and coursed through my body as if it where a bolt of lightening, searing every cell in what is to become now my casket. The old preachers heart remained cool and calm, never skipping a beat. He looked into and through my soul with just one hand guiding the oaken stake and replied with a smile " NO ".
So you are my coven mate, right?