Ascending Death

 Ascending Death 

  With fiery eyes I wake, aching bones and a creaking soul. A lonely moment but I breathe. I hear the voices, they speak. Their soft wisps of conclusion to who I should be. To what I should do. They trample about my head like beasts through jungles.

  And in this lonely moment I rage to fight them though my heart be weak. Though the thunderous roars of my voice have become soft, I still stand. I climb this mountain though the plunge could be deadly. These quivering bones are not my enemy.

 This drowning heart is not my weakness and this feverish mind is not mine. It has been taken and I shall reclaim it. I have traveled these forsaken roads long enough and my eyes can see. They burn the frozen herds of devils.

 Their eyes following like eyes of cats. Keeping watch as I stumble through thickets, sands, glaciers, and worlds of ghastly pain. But I burn through their cold stare with fervor as the taste of life dangles at my tongue.

 Tasting, I can feel its glory taint the buds of my flesh. I can feel the waves of ocean mists cool the burning of my soul. I can feel it all, the flowers that burst from concrete, the songs sung only in history and the melodies that caress a lonely man to sleep.

  I can feel it all. So I take with my hands this rope, lasso the hordes of devilish fiends and tie them to my mind, this steep cliff shall not hinder me. Their weight is but what I have always carried. These deafening creatures belong to me.

  They be my curse to bear as is any scar upon the skin. My hands pressing tightly to the edges of stone as my grip slowly weakens. But I fight as the candle light of the sun slides down the soft horizon of my eyes.

  Darkness is no fear and the demons now wake. They crawl about with savory lips to boast about death. About silence of life and the gentle release of agony. "Come to us and be burdened no more." They say as they scurry about my head.

 Tied, they cannot escape and I wish them not such ability. I string them from rope to rope like bees tied to string. They flutter but quickly grow tired. Drunk they become, as I feed them nectar of my suffering. My oozing tar of misery, of woe.

 They too stumble about but they now speak with great temptations. Their mouths gush with impressive agony. How deep they be, how profound their annunciation of suffering be. They speak of heaven as if it be a place for only the cleansed.

 That I am but nothing more than that which equates to the moisture of a whores thighs. "Let go" they say as they see my grip fall. I hang with a single arm, the sun is gone and the wind is wild. My heart pulls heavy, it begs for gravity's forgiveness as my pleads collide upon stone.

  Though the pleasures of death swells with romance I keep my grip. I swing my swaying body and relinquish my fallen hand to these sharpened rocks. My feet press tightly against the edging cliff. My demons, flustered in my silence they become enraged.

 They spew with fire and dawn their pitchforks. They slaughter every sheep, every star that lives. Shrieks of murder spill upon the air, a cold grasp of winter takes to my lungs. My soul cries out but I have no answer but to keep moving.

  To keep my steps upward and my head facing the moon. Darkness or light, I shall be on my way. Let the flames of hell rise and my feet burn. Let my body be taken by devils but my heart will still beat. Let the lonely voice of emptiness be my companion by I shall not drink beside it.

 Let all chaos settle upon my ribs and burst my chest like a seed. Pour my blood upon my paths and praise what ever hell it seeks, but I will press on.

  All hell has found me now, I am covered in sweat, my body shivers from cold and my flesh quivers of thirst. Delirium has found its place and I see angels upon my shoulders but the demons be true. For they are who I traveled so long with.

  I feel myself pleading more to lose, to become an insect under the pressure of this dire thing of life. But I am no fool, no boy of resentment or pain. It now rains, I open my throat and take in the tears of these darkened clouds.

  Thirst has quenched and I shiver no more from delirium. I reach with my hands and raise myself with my feet. I feel the edge, I feel the top. I swing up my arm and struggle to raise my body. My demons cease to fly, they are mute as they glare with loathing eyes.

  Looking up, dangling from the waste with ropes like forgotten puppets. But they salivate well for my death, for my plummet to earth. One more step and I am free, I search blindly with my arm and I feel something, I feel a root.

 I grip with intensity and pull myself from the edge. My chest curves over the surface of the cliff and I am free. I stand while my lungs fill with the shallow air. Suddenly my weight becomes furiously dense, I am overcome with sharp burden. I grip the ropes around my mind and I peer from the cliff.

Looking down I see them, I see their jaundice eyes shifting wildly. They are flying with madness toward earth. They pull and they pull as my feet slide toward certain death as I grip firmly. I resist  with formidable strength.

 But no more are they of mine, they are a waste of my thoughts and bring no more challenge to my heart and I bear enough love to keep myself awake. I dig my heels to the ground and in one foul tug I force them to my feet. I release a triumphant yell that echoes through the cascades causing birds to be released from their silence.

 My demons now lay at my feet. They lay with feeble posture as they now quiver at my sight. I take reign of the ropes and drag them inward from the cliff. A billow of dark smokes rises in the near distance.

  I drag my pathetic winged devils and place them before the billowing smoke. Standing before it, its heat rises like hot breath in the cold. Smoldering liquids boil beneath it. I step closer leaning toward this cavern of heat.

 I give a commanding tug upon the ropes of my demons and they scream with agony, with shame. For now they lay before their creator. They now be silent before the devil and I smile, my chest pressed out and my shoulders back.

 I grip the ropes with one hand and drag them all to dangle before the boiling heat. They shriek but I tell them to remain in the lips of peace. They do as I say, their wings flop, their mouths shut and their eyes close.

 Holding them above their end, I yell , "Be this your best? Be these your only weapon, your only chance of my defeat? If not, what is next? What beasts shall you conjure from your aching belly and your shameful heart? What will it be, for I have grown bored of these."

 I release the demons and sever the ropes. They fall  screaming as they reach helpless into the air. And from the boiling heat rises the head of an ugly and true devil. No words are said, but the echoing sounds of crushing flesh and bone.

 I turn away and take my steps to the next edge to climb.
What demons are you fighting, what cliff are you climbing and how willing are you to suffer to reach the top?

It is best to fail in trying than failing in nothing,  A Man's Traveled Heart

Coming soon, The Bleeding of Words

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