The Defeat.

The lasting monster, wandering, climbing,
Sending his tendrils squirming and writhing deep into my flesh,
Pushing between tendon and bone,
Seeking out my innermost heart, to burrow further still.
Take hold, and with hooks, barbed and strong
Pull, Pull in, Pull down
And then push back deeper into the rotting core that is left.
Back and forth his motion
Until after all the years roll by.
All is destroyed,
Nothing left
But time and dust
blowing in the wind
on an empty bridge.
No sorrow nor pain,
Just total emptiness remain.
Blessed relief
That all must end,
Never to return again,
And in the end the Monster loses,
For when the dust blows away
There is nothing more,
And he is set free,
into the true black emptiness,
the dark side of eternity.