Armageddon

Once upon a time there was a girl who lived in despair. She broke all the rules and found herself possessed by the masses. She became a weak and pitiful thing. She felt like a castaway because she could not “feel” emotionally distraught. She believed she was broken and lost. So, she took to the streets—

Her forsaken becoming. She played in the dark despite knowing that all she wanted was a savior. She circled their towers and took from their wells—she housed her holy delusions in their power.

She continued exploring within the damned and found herself a holy whore. She took from those who thought it natural to fornicate voraciously and without will.

What she brought to the table was the illusion of lust because she neither kissed them nor performed for them in the sack. She despised watching them pound her against the wall, but found more atrocious her ability to overcome.

And she waltzed in the dark pretending that all was fine and dandy. She defiled herself further and became a ruthless mercenary to any sister whore who defied her by disturbing her gory sanctuary, for the heads on the platters were hers, and hers alone—her trophy’s, the evidence of shame.

Yet, she felt nothing. Confusion was in her thoughts but not emotional distraught, not chaos, remorse, or guilt. She continued laughing, singing, preying, waltzing in the dark, circling around and around—shifting partners ever so often as required to “feel” alive.

Then one day she had enough, and she blew down their castles like the big bad wolf that she was. She stood there in the silence of her own despair, and noticed nothing in the pitch black—her body vanished the raging wars and she ushered out to the sluts: “this is my body given to you, you can have it no more”. She exiled herself not because they were bad, but because she had learned all that she needed from them. She conquered their world which had been hers too, and a new name emerged from the wreckage.

It was very becoming of her, and she feared it greatly, but she contended it was time to penetrate the system without a disguise—

She threw down her Clark Kent suit and traded it in for her truth—she yelled to the masses: “armageddon is here, and with it, I am, the exorcist, throw down your swords—fearful whores, redemption is here.