Mystical Fight - 2 - The Battle

Poem By Rita El Khoury

The phantoms are getting near
On my cheek, crawls a tear
My worst nightmare is now real
If I had strength, I would kneel.
Their voices make my stomach churn
They promise me to crash and burn
Because nothing could make them pleased
Other than a soul getting teased.
They take out their swords
My tongue speaks no words
Grass under me gets slippery
Visions and memories become blurry.
All I can see around is blood
Leaving my body to flood
And my injured skin like a map:
Between me and death, there’s no gap.
Whom did I hurt or offense
To deserve such a bad chance?
There’s no one else to blame
I close my eyes in shame.

Whispers in my ears
Growing my deepest fears
Making them get huge
Stealing my secret refuge.
Candles in my sight
And shadows I can’t fight
Digging my grave of stone
Am I surrounded or alone?
Echoes of the death
Taking my last breath
Cutting my throat with a knife
Killing the remaining life…

Right next to the mill,
In front, up on the hill,
I see a strange light wink
For a second, I stop and think
There’s no reason to feel this guilt
Never have I destroyed but built
After my steps, flowers grew
Everywhere around me, rivers flew

I fought those ghosts and I was proud
Like a real demon, growling loud.
Nothing shall beat me again
Not the devils, nor mystics, nor men!
Among humans, some think I’m a pearl
But I believe I’m just a girl,
I may have overcame the worst
But still, I wasn’t the first
Many have been cursed before
They stood like me and won their war.

Finally I stare at the night sky
And scream to God while I cry:

Can you find me an efficient cure
Or have mercy and make me pure?
Can you tell me what to pray
To turn this black into gray?
Can you believe there’s no hell
Worse than the one in which I fell?
Can you guarantee me eternal love
In the heaven you say is above?

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