Do you
know what you have put me through?
Do you
realize you have cut my wrists and throat?
Do you
suppose there is more than you?
Do you agonize
or just lay there and gloat?
Too bad
baby, tonight you will learn.
Too many hours
have been burned to ash black.
Too many
maybes, now it’s my turn.
Too little
time, once ours, we’ll never get back.
Let the
kindling be laid, watch it burn;
Let the
flames lick the timber like a lover.
Let the
rescinding be made, it’s my turn.
Let me
reclaim and try to recover.
The smoke
and heat are unbearable.
The screams
seem melodic as I watch you burn.
The invoked
find you execrable,
The
extremes of the demonic, it’s my turn.
Watching
your skin melt away like wax,
Watching
you disappear right before my eyes.
Watching
your sin smelt, cover my tracks,
Watching
you burn dear, along with your lies.
No more
pain, no more lying in fear.
No more wickedness
hidden in desires.
No more
stain, purified by the smoke.
No more
insipidness, fuel for the fires.
Finally,
free of the cost of you.
Finally, I
have no ghosts to haunt me.
Finally,
it’s me who followed through;
Finally,
you who roasts and still taunts me.
Gone from
existence, ash amidst bone.
Gone, no
resistance, held by Marduk’s word.
Gone into
that hell, that great unknown.
Gone, it
goes unseen, no sounds to be heard.
M Teresa Clayton
The question might be asked - did she burn a man to his death? Or the power the man had over her? She summons a Nephilim - a powerful one, at that. Whatever haunted her or caused her pain, was burned - if it was indeed a man, the poor soul had no chance for redemption - she passed judgment and his punishment was served.
