The Journey To Hell – Conversation 18



This is when Puss starts to change, or feel inner conflict.

Her breasts were heaving, her breath was heavy,                                                                                          Her face was swollen, she sounded wheezy.                                                                                               Her pulse was racing and, her face was flushed;                                                                                                      All in all, she suddenly seemed crushed.                                                                                                           The memories of old came back to haunt,                                                                                              For a while, her deeds, she could not haunt.

“So, you ran from the place”, a voice did whisper,                                                                         “You feared the dead, he made you shiver.                                                                                              A wind blew hard into your soul, and ripped                                                                                         Your life to shreds. Conscience pricked?                                                                                           I really don’t think so, my dear sweet lady.                                                                                            Your soul was too black, and your deeds too shady.”

“I hate you, damn you. Lucifer you fiend.                                                                                                  You pierce my veil, my layers you’ve peeled.”                                                                                 “Life, dear Puss, is never quite simple.                                                                                                   A birth, a death, are but a pimple,                                                                                                            On that smooth surface, we like to think                                                                                                 Is life – in that delusion, you shall sink.”

“So yes, you ran from that place of blood,                                                                                               Thoughts and confusion came like a flood.                                                                                            You had not yet arrived at that cross in the road.                                                                           No change in direction, no change in your mode.                                                                                      So pray, continue your wonderful tale                                                                                                    But, before that, let’s drink and quaff some ale.”

“Yes. I ran. And my own blood did come                                                                                                 From my lungs, and then my remorse was done.                                                                           My eyes looked bloody, my hair hung black,                                                                                   And, in my desire for glory, there was no slack.                                                                             I wooed them all, I had money and fame,                                                                                                    And beauty and wit to put all to shame.”

“My lovers were plenty, both women and men,                                                                                     All slaves to my desires, in my secret den.                                                                                       There were days, however, when the smoke did rise,                                                                   From the spells that I cast, to keep them all high.                                                                           I had finally arrived, at the peak of my glory,                                                                                 And I felt I had arrived at the best of my story.”

“There were nights, however, when I’d toss and turn,                                                                        When my insides did seem to burn and burn.                                                                                         A look would haunt me, a gleaming eye,                                                                                                  And, it seemed from the Heaven’s a voice did cry.                                                                         I did try to drown it, in wild, wet sex.                                                                                                      But, it continued to haunt me, and ruined my rest.”


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