Where you could finally sit and enjoy all that you worked for,

and allow your feet to take a much needed break from the weight of your desires.

Those were the days where you may have been swept away by one of my more pleasant colleagues.

Those were the days when you may have fallen while fighting for a good cause.

Those were the days when you would have thrown your life on the line for the well being of another.

One of my more pleasant colleagues may have presented themselves to you then.

A face emerging into your waking reality like a warm sunrise over the snow tipped mountains.

But those days are decades behind you.

Your surroundings are much different now,

and as you look around,

the darkening reality of what you have become horrifies you.

Now that you have reached a brick wall,

you retreat to your left where another wall lies before you.

You then turn to your right,

only to find more solid walls of brick and mortar.

You retreat back down that dreary and broken road of your past,

and all you find are the same faces that tormented you.

The ones who chewed you up, spit you out, and made you who you are today.

My days are long.

Filled with the recovery of the lost and the damned.

I search for stress cracks, and I loom in the shadows like a smoker’s last breath.

Watching. Waiting. Anticipating nothing.

I know what is to come.

I have seen it a million times.

Like the tightly wound strings of a piano.

I wait for the snap, and the entire instrument breaks into chaos.

The soul needs to be discarded. Broken down into scrap.

Thrown away.

I am the last face seen on this side of reality,

and I am the first face seen when you are sucked into the next.

Now, as you turn away from those impenetrable walls,

retracing your steps down that broken and dreary road of your past.

You may start to sense my presence.

I am among the shadows.

Watching. Waiting. Anticipating nothing.

I know what is to come.

I have seen it a million times.

You find your heart beating faster.

The horror of the situation frightens you.

You find that your heart now beats to the tune of emptiness and despair.

There are no curtains to cast aside.

No distant horizons where your dreams will carry you.

Not even a dream to be carried away on.

You realize there is nowhere to turn.

This is where you find me.

I am the orange glow that shimmers beyond the cracked and blackened grins of your inner demons.

I am the sorrow that lies behind the grief stricken screams of a new widow.

Like a vampire, I am the one who stands by, absorbing the final thoughts of the suicidal.

My face can be seen glistening in the reflection of a blade as it is plunged into the flesh of an innocent victim.

You do not want to see me.

Because I am Lunacy, and I am the darkest of all the faces that make up the shadow of Death which looms over your world.

(Was published before in write2020.com about two years ago)


About the Author

Daniel Craig Roche

Daniel Craig Roche is the author of several articles. poems, novels and short stories. Mainly a writer of horror fiction, he found a fan base in inspirational writing with his slice-of-life vignettes. If you enjoy what you find here, find more at necrologyshorts.com, Idea Gems Magazine, Tough Lit Magazine, or keep an eye out for one of his forethcoming novels.

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