The Dark One

She walks among you – the Valkyrie
Silent and diminutive, flitting through your lively ranks, 
Parting your shallow throngs of harsh color and raucous mirth
A somnolent angel of death and destruction, gliding 
Sensuous on marble limbs, her skin pale and waxy under the 
Watery rays of the sun,

Gaunt, haggard, shrouded in engulfing, blinding black, her eyes stare always
Into the distance, beholden to a private image of suffering 
And despair, her own personal Inferno
With no Virgil at her side to guide her
Misery crowds at her heels, joined by the cavorting demons 
Of Hell’s lesser rankings, and perched on her shoulder, 
There,
The vulture form of masochism, with his hooded eyes and gap-toothed
Grin

Stand aside and stare as the dark cherub passes, breathe in her lingering scent,
A perfume of quiet decay, of earth-bound bones and cheap cigarette smoke
Watch her lank hair whip and dance gingerly in the breeze, 
Try in vain to meet her gaze then drown in her eyes 
Those murky moribund pools of screaming bitterness
Queen-like she looks through you, sees you as no more than a
Ghost,
Paling beside the solid manifestations of her woe
Fear spasms across her unholy face, chased in turns by defiance 
And rage
Mottled corpse hands clutch at her skirts, so white, 
So delicate, against the swirls of inky fabric

Like a raven she swoops across the ground, heels clacking on dusty cobbles, 
The yawning maw of a shadowed alleyway unhinges before her, 
About to swallow her whole,
And just as she takes the final step into its engulfing jaws – 
Herded by her devilish minions –
She turns her head, casts a piercing glance over the desperate bony curve 
Of her shoulder, and catches your eye
Pinions you with her stare, 
And mouths, with beautiful bloodless lips –
“Save me…”

Copyright © Amy Van De Casteele | Year Posted 2009

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