Malignant Stirs

Andy Bushnell 2/12/2013 1

A beat interrupted crashes against my chest. Pain, a guest of old, returns to gloat. His unwelcome handshake tightens its grip, as the hangman sets his noose. Dread certainty pops my eyes in fear. Am I condemned? Faint howls and far-off cackling seem to provide a ready answer. Once, fragments taunt, I had been much more... A beacon of purity and giver of life. Other slivers fire and flash themselves frantically before me... Eyes wide with awe, holding life in an opened palm. Fairy tales at night and sweet bedtime kisses. Please... Stop this flickering kaleidoscope of lifetimes past, before idyllic memories descend into darker imagined places. Children with bedtime tears, hands clasped knuckle white, and unanswered question whispered in the dark.

Malignant Stirs
Andy Bushnell 2/12/2013 2 And now, another memory, a life touched by these Midas hands. One who suffered so much of my decent in the name of love. She had tried to divert me from this self-fulfilling path of loathing and pity. I battled her with an endless party of meaningless escape. Until that day when she quietly slipped away, leaving me conscience clear in victory. And alone. This life then, a beacon no more. Flickering rays signal my long-forecast fall from grace. In the dark recesses I glimpse the movement of pallid otherworldly creatures. Now scurrying about in plain sight, Confident of the outcome, they jostle for the best seat in the show. And the show, I know, is me Cold hard cement beckons. Understanding eludes me as my fall continues unchecked. Others, I recall, had asked similar questions of me before. With equal frustration. A question answered as awareness of limb's cruel betrayal dawns. Horror and despair rise until this downward flight crashes abruptly. The sky, newly painted crimson, watches without love as life and breath slips away.

Malignant Stirs
Andy Bushnell 2/12/2013 3 Before me is a different place A place of darkness and silence Where memories of children and love's lost touch are unwelcome Please... Leave untouched my memories of joy and lifetimes past Pleadings unheard, they simply drip away through twitching fingers. Without forgiveness. And now, bereft of sanctuary, Eternity beckons and Malignant stirs