You don’t know about him much these days, however he’s near, been around from now onward, indefinitely seemingly forever, the old devil, Asmodeus, an evil animal, from a mummy-like pit. What’s more, this is an account of his inclination, mindfulness, and of his presence.

As in some pestilential fog, he drowsily obstructs his direction, compared through a sloppy riverbed in dreams in the circuit of the brain, similar to a fair and evil succubi, attempting to assault men, monsters or ladies, delivering a bad dream, while sitting on their chests, amidst a 12 PM moon. What’s more, without anyone noticing, Asmodeus slipped into my fantasies the previous evening, this damnation conceived devilish monster, as though into a cell and its core, ere.

Why? Maybe he couldn’t quiet his tumult with me, that I found him out, right off the bat that evening, the one so many have in the past needed to utilize expulsion to overwhelm him to leave his usual hangout spot! Perchance, I outraged him, and this was his loathsome repentance, devils can be counter punchers, as well as troublemakers; they will generally have a horrendous yearning, and incubus-like longings. In any case, Asmodeus, he gets a kick out of the chance to gobble up men, put them in an eldritch wonderment. Not so dissimilar to numerous devil, his reasoning and presence changes from one moment to another, fretful incautious, rash. Consequently, he meanders through the swarmed bazars of my oblivious (and he has for a long time before me to uncountable numbers), during its sundown: cheerful for whatever motivations to make wickedness, and indeed, he per close did more than once like a supporting ocean, somewhat show up as though out of the blue really at that time to return-back through the sharp, cruel edges and limits of my psyche, to his homestead, or motel, or oubliette; however I got a brief look at him before I cast him away in the Ruler’s name.

He was of a bizarre semi-texture of mass matter and melancholy, with rayless plated-protective layer (like virus steel) with a chill of haunting danger and destruction all over and inside his eyes.

This wicked being, with blending, circling and stressing eyes turning like on a top, compared to earth’s turning counterclockwise, as it circles the sun, with his secret devils, loaded up with dull second thoughts, all tuning in, watching holding up behind that sepulchral despair, while second by second dimness keeps on shutting in, and emerging with his immaterial eddying, fuming human underhanded structure, Asmodeus, slayer of spouses, family destroyer, he conceals in a shadow among shadows, searching for a departure into the brain, a discharge of light, – particularly among elderly people men, somewhere down in their cyclopean rest, their thews debilitated, flanks unguarded, with a feeble hearts, to make commotion, evil, to startle them to death, similar to the incubus who sits on the chest to cause bad dreams.

Yes, maybe he emerged from the mausoleums, defeat by renunciation, the persecution thickened the air in my REM rest, got up me to this frightfulness and his predicament, smothered me some, I was his lobby’s end, I died down into a wheezing and panting breath, he wished to put me on the chill stone, I do accept. His rural eyes, staring, baited out of the unhappiness, would it be a good idea for me I not have stirred who could tell, a dead writer if or on the other hand in the event that not-was shipped off a charnel house, the bone house, the place of impedimenta, before his time! Maybe, maybe not! However, his staring at was done careful like.

Everything occurred in a cut like glimmer, inside an empty of a fantasy, from an unlatched departure into my psyche, and with his drive to attack, was just quelled by a push for me to conscious, understanding, the evil presence subsides and blurs into faint questionable murmurs of fog (say thanks to God, and my better half for her mindfulness), back to his never-ending demise, to his incubating spot of devils, one he knows excessively well, so indeed, and one he realizes I am aware of additionally, his damnation.

What’s more, the extent to which I go, sluggishness dominated, gestured a tired consent, to my heart and psyche, freed by the vanishing from those subtly eyes, consequently, I shut my eyes like entries shut simply by holders, and floated back and more profound into a dark black mind blowing period of nothingness.

#5253/5-29 and 30-2016