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The Gazelle Gallops

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Layer of film covering the eyes. Gazelle detained in oblivion.
Confined is the gazelle’s sight and understanding.
Its inability to decipher the world’s truths
Is admirable, yet seemingly unreal.

‘Is this a joke?’ the Devil questions in disgust.
Angels, it seems, stumbled upon a rare jewel.
Purity, without a blemish.
The Son advises the Angels, ’Protect it.’

Rain droplets cling to the lashes of Gazelle,
In fear of plummeting to the filth and sin that lay under the Creature.
Approaching slithering shadows.
Luminous stars veil the Creature.

“Please. Spare one. Spare one,” a whisper requests.
Cackles of Hecates mingle with the moans of the fallen.
Confined within the Angel’s embrace,
Gazelle peeks above the holy wing.

Gazelle welcomes the ever-so playful curiosity.
Cloak of innocence sheds.
Its tears trickling into warped reality.
‘What kind of world is this?’ the Creature whimpers.

Dagger pierces the bosom of the soldier.
They are expressionless, his eyes.
Yet they express.
A hero he aspired to be.
His innocent dream whisked away in the moment of man’s hunger to kill.

Gazelle is frightened.
It gallops away, from the Angel.
From its only protector.

A single feather falls amidst the collapse.
Its screams are there, muffled, swallowed by the surrounding winds.
Unheard and unwept, the feather falls to its demise.

Child strokes the cigarette.
Twiddling the death receipt within his angelic fingers, his eyes look to the sky.
Bulging with tears.

Gazelle gallops.
Fast –faster. Swiftly does it go?
Not a pause, it takes.

She leads him to her bedroom.
‘We have to be quiet’ she warns,
As she shuts the door behind them.

Gazelle gallops.
Ignorant, they call it.
They called it ignorant, I say.

D’Elormie hands the arrow to the Devil, ‘I give you the honor, sir.’
He fingers the piercing edge.
The arrow flies.

Frozen, the realm of universe, time, and space stand.
For once, cruel time ceases its incessant nature and gasps,
To silently witness the sacrifice of something so pure, so innocent.

Gazelle, pierced.
Upturned, eyes.
Blood of victim sipped by Asura.

‘Tell me, tell me it’s not true!’ The Angels cry to Asmodeus.
He points at the Gazelle,
Its wide eyes having faded to black.





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