Josho (the ascension)

Mere minutes follow that of this midnight hour
As the devil stands under an old leafless tower
A little girl no more than the wee age of ten
Like still life, she haunts the dreams of men

An erect solider with skin as pale as the dead
Hair as black as night, resting neatly on her head
Silk stockings cover the whiteness of her legs
Death be quick, only to God do I solemnly beg

The answers return in flashes and rhythmic roars
Behind me, are fervid shakes along locked doors
In absolute fear I cower under my bedded wears
The screams of a madman; to care, no one dares

I open my eyes to the sound of a gravely groan
My body lay cold as the shivers breach my bones
Slowly I turn to reveal the object wiithin my room
A pale corpse standing under the light of the moon

Unsolicited terror engulfs the frame of my being
Please release me from this nightmarish feeling
The velvet blackness sways in this airless gloom
Revealing windowless sockets as dark as doom

I seek refuge along the straight edges of the wall
No hope have I as the soiled sheets break my fall
Ghoulish steps accompany the crackling of night
In me, this apparition provokes phantasimic fright

Her tiny rotting face recollects a long forgotten scene
One of my little children; wet fantasies in my dreams
She, whose succulent little mouth kissed my mound,
As I cut her up, and buried her deep into the ground

And now, she stands, her white dress drenched in blood
Her once polished opal heels, are now blemished in mud
Into teary eyes, she searches into the depths of my soul
Her rosey-red cheeks now ripped apart by two gaping holes

Before my greyish brow, the little one continues to stand
So shaken with sorrow; the agony of a condemned man
Her skeletal fingers, with fleshy bits receding from their tips
She passes judgement as the final breath escapes my lips

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