You don't hear of him much nowadays, but he's around, been around for a very long time, the ancient demon, Asmodeus, a baneful creature, from a mummy-like abyss. And this is a story of his nature, awareness, and of his presence.
As in some pestilential mist, he sluggishly clogs his way, likened through a muddy riverbed in dreams in the circuit of the mind, like a fair and baneful succubi, trying to rape men, beasts or maidens, producing a nightmare, while sitting on their chests, in the midst of a midnight moon. And like a thief in the night, Asmodeus did slip into my dreams last night, this hell-born demonic beast, as if into a cell and its nucleus, ere.
Why? Perhaps he was unable to calm his agitation with me, that I discovered him out, early on that afternoon, the one so many have in the past had to use exorcism to beguile him to abandon his home away from home! Perchance, I offended him, and this was his frightful penance, demons can be counter punchers, as well as instigators; they tend to have a ghoulish hunger, and incubus-like desires. But Asmodeus, he likes to devour men, put them in an eldritch awe. Not so unlike many demon, his thinking and presence changes from instant to instant, restless impulsive, impetuous. Hence, he wanders through the thronged bazars of my unconscious (and he has for ages before me to uncountable numbers), during its twilight: sanguine for whatever reasons to create evil, and yes, he per near did once or twice like a cradling sea, slightly appear as if out of nowhere only then to return-back through the sharp, harsh ridges and narrows of my mind, to his abode, or inn, or oubliette; but I did get a glimpse of him before I cast him away in the Lord's name.
He was of a weird semi-fabric of bulk matter and gloom, with rayless plated-armor (like cold steel) with a chill of deathly menace and desolation on his face and within his eyes.
This demonic being, with stirring, orbiting and straining eyes spinning like on a top, likened to earth's spinning counterclockwise, as it orbits the sun, with his hidden ghouls, filled with dark misgivings, all listening, watching waiting behind that sepulchral gloom, while moment by moment darkness continues to close in, and arising with his intangible eddying, seething anthropomorphic diabolical form, Asmodeus, slayer of husbands, family destroyer, he hides in a shadow among shadows, looking for an egress into the mind, an emission of light, -especially among old men, deep in their cyclopean sleep, their thews weakened, flanks unguarded, with a weak hearts, to create pandemonium, evil, to frighten them to death, like the incubus who sits on the chest to inflict nightmares.
Aye, it was as if he came out of the catacombs, overcome by resignation, the oppression thickened the air in my REM sleep, awoke me to this horror and his plight, stifled me some, I was his hall's end, I subsided into a wheezing and gasping breath, he wished to put me on the chill stone, I do believe. His rustic eyes, ogling, lured out of the gloom, should I not have awakened who could tell, a dead poet-if or if not-was sent to a charnel house, the bone house, the house of impedimenta, before his time! Perhaps, perhaps not! But his ogling was done chary like.
It all took place in a slit-like gleam, within a hollow of a dream, from an ajar egress into my mind, and with his impulse to invade, was only repressed by a nudge for me to awake, insight, the demon recedes and fades into faint dubious whispers of mist (thank God, and my wife for her awareness), back to his everlasting death, to his hatching-place of demons, one he knows too well, so well, and one he knows I know of also, his hell.
And as far as I go, sleepiness took over, nodded a drowsy assent, to my heart and mind, relieved by the disappearance of those stealthily eyes, thus, I shut my eyes like portals shut only by hangers, and drifted back and deeper into a black ebony incredible age of nothingness.
#5253/5-29 & 30-2016