Demons

Rage. it bubbled and boiled inside her, climbing to its peak and crashing over into hysteria. It was hot, and hurtful, and didn’t wish to be stilled. But this sort of anger never lasts long. After a moment, it changes. It becomes cold, and ruthless. It simmers inside, stagnant and condensing. Anger like this will sit, like a stone, in the stomach. It is fueled by every jibe and jab. Every poke and prod, no matter how minuscule or petty they may be. It crawls up the spine like so many spiders, just waiting to pounce when you least expect it. Anger is a demon, with vision tinted red, and a heart of iron and stone. The soul it used to have, is replaced with magma and fire, brimstone tinged with hate. Every harsh word, every cold action, every wrong it compels you to commit, are all bricks and stones for building up the wall around your own heart. It hardens your soul until it becomes brittle and broken, snapped into a thousand and one pieces. And each shard only fuels the fire.

But magma cools, and iron melts, even stones must erode and crumble, until all that’s left is emptiness. The demon within has had its fill, and left you with nothing but hurt feelings, and an emptiness of soul, heart, and mind. It leaves the body drained, and lethargic.

Replacing Rage, is a demon of Regret, tinged blue and poisonous green. It slinks in, unnoticed, and sits heavily in the heart. In it’s embrace, you relive every harsh, cold, cruel thing that you did under Anger’s command. It brings everything into the spotlight, and simply will not let go.

Eventually, Regret will fade away, and all that is left in its place, is Sorrow.

Sorrow. It fills the heart, the mind, the soul… but slowly. Sorrow is not quick, Sorrow is not easily turned away. Like sand in the bottom of an hourglass, it will continue to fill until everything has fallen through. Then, as of an overfilled glass, it spills. First slowly, just a few drops at a time, gentle, and corrosive. It lodges stones in the throat, and a hot iron to your heart. All too quickly the dam breaks, and the flood is torrential. It gushes and pours, it rages and falls. It is hot, and unlike Anger, can sometimes be comforting. But long before it comforts you, it tears you down, until every defense lies in a soggy, sopping heap on the floor. With each current sadness, comes three more from your past. They join together, and sing a soft mournful song, or scream out in pain and entrapment, tortured by the very memories and feelings which they convey. All is blue, and washed out, and dripping. Sorrow brings back memories that should or could have stayed hidden for sometime longer. It is the culmination of Guilt, and Regret, and Anger. It does not hide things from you, it gives the truth, though it be blunt and unwanted. It will take every star in your sky, and drown them with you. The rain pours, and the water falls, and ever so slowly fades to a trickle. Then it stops. It drifts away, leaving tears, and all lost things in its wake.

No demons are angels, but some may be blessings in disguise.