He paces the Blackened Room.
The one he knows so well.
Ten paces right, ten paces left is all.
Nothing except for a cot and a candle.
No window, no lights, just darkness.
This cell has been His home,
for the past fifteen years.
For fifteen years no natural light,
no companionship except the rats.
So He waits.
He waits for the day when they will come
and take Him to the Chamber.
"It's been too long" they cry
"we need his blood!" they moan.
But this man has none to give
for he was drained long ago
locked in the Darkened Room.
He has paid His penance.
Every day is like a year
when the mind is solitary.
No one to talk to
no one to see.
The mind turns in on itself
snacks on itself in glee.
Slowly, slowly insanity comes
unnoticed at first then roaring through the cage.
He hears the footsteps outside his door
never sure if they're real or not.
The key turns in the lock
but the door won't open.
The Blackened Room won't give up its prey.
The Blackened Room is God.
The door creaks open
the light pierces his eyes, He turns away.
The hall seems to stretch out before him.
Everyone avoids my glance
acts as if they don't know me,
as if we haven't already
spent a lifetime together.