Whispers On The Wind...

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-OBLIGATION ISN'T MINE-
By: Lance HaunRogue

She was purest of blown snow, falling to the ground...
Late one winters night, she woke from sleep so sound...
To hear the screams of death, that come in times of war...
And with tiny shaking hands, she shackled all the doors...

Afraid to go to sleep, she followed shadows on a wall...
Counting minutes on a clock, with hands that seemed to crawl...
And she sat rocking in her chair, to the sound of grinding teeth...
Till her eyelids had surrendered to the slow and steady beat...

She was awoken quite disturbed, by a low and scratching grind...
That dragged outside the door, like a grate across her spine...
And with fear too thick to speak, she simply gagged her terror down...
And backed herself into a corner, where she trembled on the ground...

Outside there came a voice, that bled and begged of pain...
"Please help if you can hear me." fell the soldiers words like rain...
But with cold and icy tones, came the chill of her reply...
Spoke the purest of blown snow, "Obligation isn't mine."...

Then she covered up her ears, to the pleading of his voice...
And gave him not a thought, not a chance, a prayer, or choice...
And so the drops of rain did stop, and into rivers they did flood...
Down the walkway of white snow, that had become so soaked in blood...

And in the corner of her room, with her hands about her ears...
Sat the purest of blown snow, in her shaking fits of fear...
As the minutes passed like hours, so did the hours take for days...
Through a night that endured years and years, she maintained her stubborn ways...

And as the first soldier's voice had calmed, so another finally came...
"Please help if you can see me." burned the soldiers words like flame...
And he beat against the window, like a frightened bird in flight...
But once again a cold reply, "Oh obligation isn't mine."

And staring with one eye, through the fingers of her hands...
Sat the precious girl so terrified, of the desperate dying man...
And he moved from pane to pane, smudging dirt into a mud...
With the streaks of bitter tears, and the loss of precious blood...

And she paced both to and fro, as his voice it did repeat...
Over splintered wooden floors, that stabbed her pristine feet...
And slowly to a whisper, step by step she walked about...
Till the burning had subsided and the fire been put out...

Then collapsing to her knees, in exhaustion as she wept...
Sat the poor white-knuckled girl, in a stinging pool of sweat...
And she beat with flailing hands, at her fragile, aching head...
Wishing rather than endure, be better off if she were dead...

In the corner of the room, with the sunshine on her face...
Woke the purest of blown snow, in an unfamiliar place...
And plagued with memories, of such a nightmare in her mind...
She sat to find the new day dawn, would help to leave it all behind...

So she opened up the windows, and the rushing air blew in...
And she smiled to the warmth, of sweet sunshine on her skin...
Then she sat before her mirror, brushing through her golden hair...
In admiration of her beauty, a captive held to her own stare...

Then suddenly a knocking, came ringing in her ears...
But she continued brushing, refusing she could hear...
Then there came a glowing vision, that she could not refuse to see...
Of a hallowed man's reflection, in her mirrored vanity...

In her doorway of neglect, in such a sight of no denial...
Stood the handsome hallowed man, with the gentlest of smiles...
And he asked her for her hand, saying "Come, sit at my side."...
But she silently refused, as he whispered "But, you've died."...

In shock and disbelief, she spat of blasphemy and greed...
"It is loathsome and unkind, for you to say such things to me."...
And she beat upon his chest, in a violent fit of tears...
And the saviors arms encircled her, calming all her fears...

As as he spoke in velvet tones, she grew addicted to the sound...
And she reached out her tiny hand, from her position on the ground...
Then he looked on her delighted, as he grasped her by the wrist...
Stabbing sharply were his fingernails with a crushing brutal twist...

And in horror she did scream, upon the floor his hallow fell...
He laughed "My name is Satan and I'm taking you to hell!"...
And she saw into his eyes, that burned so vibrant red...
And she pleaded "I must awaken from this nightmare safe in bed!"...

He flung open shackled doors, snapping lumber just like twigs...
And he shoved her to the snow, were the blood had grown so thick...
She stammered for forgiveness, as her endless tears did flow...
Satan barked "Tis evil doing, for one purest of blown snow!"...

Then Satan raised his arms, and she screamed as if insane...
As a circle all around them, first smoldered then caught flame...
She cried and cried "This isn't fair!", and Satan's finger pointed down...
To the burning pit of hell, where she heard such tortured sounds...

And he asked her "Is this fair?", with a smile stretching full of teeth...
"To leave these solidiers to such torment, because you claim to be so meek?"
Then they were engulfed in flame as she mustered, such a brave defiant cry...
"Oh you said you were my savior! You are so contemptible to lie!"...

And Satan turned to her as they descend, a look of apathy and wry...
"Oh, dear child, I offer all apologies, but... Obligation isn't mine!"...

THE END