The Hope Divine

We were at the top of the stairs. She said to me, "The Valley of Death is here now. You must walk it." Tired from the look in her eyes I fell into a trance. Spinning and spinning my thoughts ran a cycle of tortured memories. Her voice over and over again "You must walk it... You must walk it..." This moonlit sky was cold to the touch focused on its lust, I heard a wolf cry out. Alone predators circled my feet, taunting me, wanting me to fall to my knees. As the sun rises I kept her with me, holding her hand, promising her that we will eventually take over the land. I was the sheep. The sheep in wolves clothing. Her lust sank deeper into my heart and grabbed my soul. Juggling my life into her hands as fragile as a piece of glass we fell into a hoax together. Stirring our eyes in this love potion of a faithless creation. If the Devil created anything it was for all the wrong reasons. I remember my strength and how quickly it slipped away. My soul being threaded out like a needle. Morning, afternoon and night, she taught me ways to die. Now the streets are filled with a million different ways of suicide. And I close my eyes, dreaming of my good-byes. Her voice lingers in the air, I feel like I can smell it. The quench of my thirst grows deeper. This is it, The Valley of Death must be walked. But no... I held her closer holding onto her with every breath I had. Deeper and deeper into her eyes I was sinking. A broken sailors ship in my heart. Bloodless, lifeless I kissed her. She felt relaxed. I grasped the lust that I thought was love I had for her. And I whispered. "Devil... I can see the wolf in you." The bottom of the stairs was just a grave, she was better off dead. Autumn leaves never fall that sincerely to the ground as she did and life never grew over her body ever again.