AN ODE TO MAN

AN ODE TO MAN: I

You prowl after her in the dead of the night - a damsel in distress vulnerable to your power. Though she hears your steps growing as you lunge behind her, she does not falter.

This makes you confident, taking her lack of fear as ignorance but you are unaware of the monster that lies beneath her delicate flesh. You reach for her, ignoring the claws protruding from thin fingertips as they glinted dark obsidian under the moonlight.

Your smile is victorious when you force the damsel to face you but then it falters as you are horrified by what you see. Though her face was calm, dark blood was oozing from the corners of her tainted lips, a content look in her deathly eyes.

Legs scramble, knees buckle as you try to run but her protruding nails have already carved their way into your tender flesh, eliciting a scream from your hoarse throat. Your plan has failed, you realise, blood flowing through musty garments. The role of prey has now been bestowed upon you.

Twin tears begin to race down your cheeks as you pray for a silent form of salvation. But, oh, you are too distraught to see the irony.

Praying to God when the taste of sin was dancing on your tongue.

The damsel looks to you, gaze unforgiving, a punishment caging her heart. She smiles, sharpened teeth listening with a crimson glow and fear introduced itself with a cold embrace. You look to her, dark eyes pleading, but darling, don't you know? Every action has its consequences, for this is an ode to man.

And it is time to quench the damsel's thirst.

- trauma is the best form of art.