Red

He was dead in that red room
The room was dead in his red

Frothing he lay face up
His eyes encompassing the deadly structure of that room

His body a colossal mess, with rashes and damages throughout, finding no origin and no end

The bloddied chain and the thread lay over his carcass

His shadow formed by the early morning light, inconsistent and swaying, seemed to be grinning at that person

that very greedy scandalous, fanatic bastard he had been

the shadow knew well that death was not due to the nightshade, but due to his greed and the animal he had been

It all happened before a fortnight, when he was possesed by a demon.

the possesion which had started did not let go of him even at this deathbed

It all started when, when the doctor warned him that he should not sport holy ash anymore and prescribed him some tablets, much to his dismay

He had a infection in his forehead and treating it to foriegn substances only bounds to make it worse, and spread all through his body

There wasn’t a day when he missed out on his holy ash.

His holy ash made him holy, made him walk everywhere with pride

Made him the supreme commander
Made him the supreme race
Made him the lord’s disciple

However when he was not sporting it now, it was like he lost everything

How would he face his disciples now, with what face will he pour out his scorn at the untouchables right now.

That man only had his beaded chain right now to be a human and his sacred thread to be a commander

Will he get away with his holy ash? His foreheads pleads to, but his mind is indifferent to his forehead’s woe.

Against the doctor’s advice the bastard sports his holy ash the next day

He consumes none of the tablets

he took them and smashed them and blew them through his window, hoping that a inch of the powder doesn’t touch a part of his house

Much opposite to his initial notion - that the ash was harmless in his forehead - that gave him much fodder to his joy, over the next three days the infection had slowly spread throughout between his chin and chest


It stung to wear his beaded chain now, his body stung, physically he was shivering

Mentally he was dismissive and indifferent to the colossal pain caused by the infection

However the non judgemental eyes knew,

They never did lie

over the fourth day he began to sport his Holy ash monstrously than ever.

His forehead was all white, as if they could neither see nor sustain any white anymore.

He knew the lord was always there, ever present, and he would save his arse, which no medicine or no regulations could ever do


Grinning at the infection,
Instead of the people he had dominated until now, It was his body he was dominating now

His eyes were redder than they could ever be, they looked deadly

all the supreme evil came in the form of him

But all the supreme evil found refugee only for a few days in his body, and had to leave him due to his deteriorating condition

He found gloom and disappointment at this departure

Over the next fee days He could not move a bit, now his whole body stung, he ate with great difficulty, his facial nerves grinned at him

Everyone left him now, the battle between him and his body was like a almost win for his body

He struggled to run his errands, meet his people, laugh with contempt at the untouchables.

But the Forfeiture did not seem anywhere near, he did not give up.

He knew he could win the battle
There was a way

Not be ashamed by everyone by that way
To have his picture and his history for the future generations to see unblemished in that way

His hands struggling, His lips curved into a evil smile he slowly takes grasp of that night shade

Consumes it

And finally the battle between him and his body finds a full stop

When the people came the next day, his cause of death was suicide,

It was a victory for his self.

And now that man lies, with something like a grin resembling his face

He looks like he just could never have been more happier.