You don’t hear much of him these days, but he is around, has been around for a long time, the ancient demon, Asmodeus, a baleful, mummy-like creature from an abyss. And this is a story of his nature, consciousness and his presence.
As in a pestilential mist, it slowly obstructs its path, assimilated through a muddy riverbed into dreams in the circuit of the mind, like a beautiful and baleful succubus, seeking to rape men, beasts or maidens, producing a nightmare, while sitting in his arms. chests, in the middle of a midnight moon. And like a thief in the night, Asmodeus slipped into my dreams last night, this hell-born demon beast, like a cell and its core, ere.
Why? Perhaps he couldn’t calm his agitation with me, that I found out, early in the afternoon, that so many in the past had to use exorcism to seduce him into leaving his home away from home! Perhaps I offended him, and this was his ghastly penance, demons can be counterattackers as well as instigators; They tend to have a macabre hunger and incubus desires. But Asmodeus likes to devour men, put them in supernatural wonder. Not unlike many demons, his thoughts and presence change from moment to moment, restless, impulsive, impetuous. Thus he roams the crowded bazaars of my unconscious (and he has for centuries before me an untold number), during his twilight: sanguine for whatever reason to create evil, and yes, he nearly did once or twice. Sometimes like a cradling sea, it appears faintly as if out of nowhere only then to return through the sharp and rough ridges and narrows of my mind, to its abode, inn or dungeon; but I caught a glimpse of it before I cast it aside in the name of the Lord.
He was a strange semi-weave of bulk matter and darkness, in lightning-less plate armor (like cold steel) with a chill of deadly menace and desolation on his face and within his eyes.
This demonic being, with fluttering eyes, orbiting and striving spinning as if on a top, compared to the turning of the earth counterclockwise, as it orbits around the sun, with its hidden demons, full of dark misgivings, all listening, watching, waiting behind that sepulchral gloom, while moment by moment the darkness continues to close in, and emerge with its intangible whirlpool, seeing something diabolical anthropomorphic, Asmodeus, murderer of husbands, destroyer of families, hides in a shadow between the shadows, looking for an exit to the mind, an emission of light. , -especially among the old, plunged into their cyclopean sleep, their muscles weakened, flanks unprotected, with a weak heart, to create pandemonium, evil, to scare them to death, like the incubus that sits on the chest to inflict nightmares .
Yes, it was as if I came out of the catacombs, overcome by resignation, the oppression thickened the air in my REM sleep, I woke up to this horror and its situation, it suffocated me a little, I was the end of its corridor, I plunged into a panting and panting, I wanted to put myself on the cold stone, I think. His rustic eyes, ogling, drawn out of the gloom, if he hadn’t woken up who could tell, a dead poet, yes or no, he was sent to a carnal house, the house of bones, the house of impedimenta! , early! Maybe, maybe not! But looking at him with his eyes became like chary.
It all happened in a flash like a slit, inside the hollow of a dream, from a half-open exit in my mind, and with its impulse to invade, it was only quelled by a shove to wake me, insight, the demon backs away and vanishes in dim, doubtful whispers of mist (thank God and my wife for his conscience), back to his eternal death, to his demonic incubation place, one he knows very, very well, and who knows I do too. I know, its hell.
And as I go, sleep overtakes me, I nodded sleepily, to my heart and mind, relieved at the disappearance of those stealthy eyes, so, I closed my eyes like portals closed only by hangers, and went back to drifting deeper and deeper into an amazing old black ebony out of nowhere.
#5253/5-29 and 30-2016
