The Knight and the Demon
Not going to be long now. I feel the demon coming. It has hounded my steps for years now. I know when it gets close, and I know when it is going to strike. Tonight it is in the air... taunting me.
For many year now I have struggled against it. It possesses weapons that let loose my baser nature. It sets me against myself. It has me be a mockery of all my principles. I hate it with a passion, as it hates me. There are times that I thwart it, brand it, banish it, beat it, and occasionally mortally wound it. Yet it always comes back.
It wishes to make me its servant. To make me a champion of evil. It has done so on occasion... and I regret those times with a bitterness that I can never express... or make amends for. Sometimes it uses alcohol to reach this end... other times other... baser... means. What scares me the most is that when I let it control me... when I become its knight... there is a part of me that loves every moment of it. It loves the suffering I inflict, the discord I sow, and the misery I reap.
...And it strikes again tonight. A slight wound against a wounded soul, but they do add up. I fight it, but I lose. I refuse, however, to give up. I cannot give up. My friends, family, and my soul all depend on victory... or at least my dying to defend what is important to me.
Sigh... I feel old. And the coldness of this house does little to help. I see him in my reflection... and sometimes I just can't tell the difference.
And then I remember the times I have been free of him. It makes me remember that he is not me. It makes me remember that I have a cause to fight for... if no other cause than to only see me in mirrors!
For many year now I have struggled against it. It possesses weapons that let loose my baser nature. It sets me against myself. It has me be a mockery of all my principles. I hate it with a passion, as it hates me. There are times that I thwart it, brand it, banish it, beat it, and occasionally mortally wound it. Yet it always comes back.
It wishes to make me its servant. To make me a champion of evil. It has done so on occasion... and I regret those times with a bitterness that I can never express... or make amends for. Sometimes it uses alcohol to reach this end... other times other... baser... means. What scares me the most is that when I let it control me... when I become its knight... there is a part of me that loves every moment of it. It loves the suffering I inflict, the discord I sow, and the misery I reap.
...And it strikes again tonight. A slight wound against a wounded soul, but they do add up. I fight it, but I lose. I refuse, however, to give up. I cannot give up. My friends, family, and my soul all depend on victory... or at least my dying to defend what is important to me.
Sigh... I feel old. And the coldness of this house does little to help. I see him in my reflection... and sometimes I just can't tell the difference.
And then I remember the times I have been free of him. It makes me remember that he is not me. It makes me remember that I have a cause to fight for... if no other cause than to only see me in mirrors!