Daemon

By Suman Behera

What kind of a person are you?

Are you the kind to live on striving for someone else’s warmth?

Are you the kind to live violently?

To kill something, somewhere inside yourself

just to gather their lives?

Because you knew you were not fed love with a silver spoon

So, you learned to lick it off of knives.

What kind of a person are you?

Are you the kind to live on striving for self-destruction?

Are you the kind to suppress when it is your emotions, you need to take into consideration?

To behead your feelings, not giving them even a chance to cry out?

Is it because you knew that you would never be heard,

even if you are screaming inside an empty hall?

Is that why you learned to fight your own self to death in a boxing ring, rounds of deadly bout?

What kind of a person are you?

Are you the kind to slaughter yourself to be people’s subject of amuse?

To drown yourself in a sea of surface appreciation and shallow attraction?

Because you knew you were not cut out to admit,

that you desperately want to be loved.

So, you learned to substitute your need with bleeding poems

and words as debris for your own demolition.

What kind of person are you?

Living on with darkness that is known only by the grim reaper.

Leaving the goodness in you impaled on the front porch of Alucard, resembling a pole-dancing stripper.

What kind of a person are you?

Living on with the illusion of still being human.

Leaving the goodness in you burning like a cathedral circled with holy water which has trapped inside a demon.

Because you knew you were going to die, ugly and alone.

The bitterness leaving you unlovable, your human self, only a fading clone.

But it does not matter anyway

This is how it was meant to be.

You know, you always knew you would turn to bones in this crypt.

You know, because you are not blaming anyone else,

instead, you have this crooked smile of someone who has written and acted voluntarily on his own domed script.

By Suman Behera