I was powerless to stop it,
and the grey tower was falling,
my strength with it.
The Storm,
Oh the Storm.
What is the power of man when ranged,
against the ordered chaos of the universe?
Gripped by delirium I fell into black,
I saw angels,
Demons,
Friends now dead,
Physical embodiments of fear,
Nightmares brought to life.
Hell was revealed in all it's terrifying glory.
Spires of black rock,
crimson, acrid plumes of smoke,
Molten death from the innards of the earth.
Flames licked at my soul,
The Darkness delved into the confines of my being,
He saw my failings,
He understood my weakness,
He deduced the cracks in my mind, dug his claws in, and pried them apart.
I vomited violently,
My insides bulging with otherwordly hosts,
I ripped at my eyes,
unable to comprehend, not wanting to see the figures that rent the flesh of my belly,
incantations, curses, words that were not my own issued forth,
damning the world and my soul,
I was losing.
It could not be allowed freedom.
This was it's plan.
The assault on the grey tower was merely a ploy,
wresting my attention from the real battle.
Damnation was not a choice for us all.
Time all but gone.
Little remained.
My teeth sunk into my tongue, and I chewed upon it, like fine steak.
The pain was horrible, the flavor and knowledge of the act,
detestable.
I persevered and swallowed that vile thing.
My strength was almost at end.
I could not lose,
Could not fail,
Could not allow it to prevail.
The ramparts.
Release and also victory.
With no vessel, He would be contained.
I stumbled blindly,
led by the howl of the demon,
now an ally, a guide to salvation.
Knees struck the wall,
I pivoted and toppled from the grey tower.
It was high,
The fall long,
Darkness came again.
But this time nothing lurked within it.
