Poems of my Mind

ok, so this one wont actually make sense to anyone at all. It's based on a conversation I had with a friend, but its quite dramatic so I thought I would post it anyway. Also, I don't mean it to be offensive in any way, me and my friend have some really odd and sometimes dogey conversations, so please don't take this seriously!

~~~~

A lonely bat sits in a cave.

Solitary, waiting for its next victim.

The stone is rolled away, letting blinding light flood into the chamber.

He remains hidden in what shadow remains.

A man is thrown in, wrapped in a blanket, stained with blood.

And the stone door is rolled shut once more.

In the pitch, the bat swims down.

His feet touch the floor, shiny leather shoes turned matt black in the empty darkness.

A mask coveres his face.

He slowly strides towards the holy corpse

While the city of crime mourns outside.

He feels no such loss.

Gliding with a silence that mirrors the monster within,

He reaches the body

And peels back the humble wrap.

The face of angel and demon meet.

Their blood one, and both within one.

He narrows his eyes in quiet contemplation- the blood dripping rhythmically from beneath the mask-

And makes a decision.

The floor rumbled by unseen command,

And tips around.

The six-wounded corpse spins down in what would be a dizzying descent.

Without sight, all directions seem similar in the all surrounding blackness.

The bat flaps down.

Effortless and precise.

Whilst the body lands with a soft crunch.

Painful, were the man alive.

Dim lights illuminate the cavern floor;

Sleek black shapes sofly outlined in the dark.

Another man walks in.

Wise beyond his years, and even older than that.

He steps towards the corpse; the power to restore and ruin.

As he had done before.

The leather shoes squeak softly as both men meet around the body.

A silent pact is made

And the elder kneels down.

A bite to restore and ruin,

For three to become one.

The three men stand.

Wise, Strong and Holy no more.

Each the same.

The greatest sin.

The most powerful betrayal.

The wrath of the cross to haunt them forever.

A woman enters.

Separate, alone, she longed for her leader to return.

And he had.

But she had seen what he had become.

So she could not leave.

Her beauty stripped and her name changed,

She lived on with the bat in death.

A winter bird.

And so, an end and a beginning,

For a bat, a butler and Jesus.