Eurielle

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A dystopic image of the world post-disaster courtesy of Mr FijiWiji

When heavens came calling, she left me drowning inside the depth of her wandering eyes. And like my last hope, I have been clinging to the end, to the beginning of the end, my end.

The beauty with bewitching eyes once waltzed into my sight and held me in a trance that I have never been able to extricate myself from. I know that it is poison, that she is poison, but I cannot rid myself of her.

It is almost as if she has me by a rope that she can tug as I float in space, between sanity and insanity, between the end and the beginning. All she has to do is tug and stop my free fall but she keeps extending the ropes.

Eurielle, Eurielle! I weep, but the echo of my voice mocks back from the darkness. This is not a play. This is not the stage. This is the end. The sky is falling to pieces around me. I have lived a lie. I have loved a lie.

Looking up from my drug-induced craze, I meet soft blue eyes that hide an uncanny thought, an uncanny evil, the signs of early death, a rigor mortis of the soul. Is it the drugs or is it me, Eurielle?

I feel like diving into the depths of what I see but I am already neck-deep. She had me long before. She had me in the cusps of Death. Eurielle… I call out as my mouth fills with lava. She has melted me. She will burn me to ash.

 
An imaginative portrayal of Hades courtesy of Wallpaper cave

When her curse first assailed me, I ran to the river to cleanse myself but it was boiling. I ran to the sea to purge my soul but she turned the waters to blood. There, she baptized me in sorrow and declared me a son of fate. She birthed me again and left me to burn. 

She loved me and stuck my body into the scorching sand. She drew out my blood and injected me with acid. She anointed me with bitterness and draped me with a cloak of sorrow. When she ascended to heaven, she left me a comforter, death.

I have been with my new master ever since, a gift I could not accept or refuse, a gift I did not ask for. I want to work myself out of this pit but it would have been easier had she given me hands and feet.

Mercy, Eurielle, Mercy. Save me if the blue is not of the sea but of your eyes. Save me from this path I did not choose. I am not the messiah. I cannot stand the weight of this broken cross. 

This fate I did not choose. You bewitched me, Eurielle. You lied to me and sold me a bad dream. Take the broken parts of me and make me whole. Stich me, bit by bit.

Again, I am lost in this cacophony of drums that sound in my head and beat in my heart. I am lost in the midst of the symphony of the underworld, the song of darkness.

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