The world is dark and dingy now,
     the lightning evergreen.
It flashes but its arcs become,
     like tentacles unclean.
The vine like arms grow longer still,
     and head towards the ground.
They slink along the floor with haste,
     while making little sound.

I'm outside now and all around,
     the vines close in on me.
I try to run but arms and legs,
     protest viscosity.
Confined unto a treacle sea,
     my limbs can hardly move.
Despite my rabid thrashing,
     I have nothing left to prove.

The vines or limbs grow closer now,
     their stench is biting hard.
I feel the lightning calling me,
     a thought I can't discard.
A hue of emerald fills the air,
     this place the serpent's lair.
The dark clouds roll like smoke until,
     they're present everywhere.

I'm seated now on chair of stone,
     I feel the cold of rock.
The darkness calls me yet again,
     a call I cannot block.
I want to stand but sit I must,
     rigor mortis taken hold.
The body dead, my mind lives on,
     a treasure made of gold.

The vines ascend the stone,
     their smell is toxic, rank and sickly.
And over wrists and ankles fast,
     it moves and holds me quickly.
I glimpse the sky above so dark,
     the clouds now stopped in time.
Then the wailing starts again,
     a harried paradigm.

The wailing moans, I sense a calm,
     the calm before the storm.
And then I see a monumental,
     colour taking form.
The sky is getting ready,
     the lightning will release.
I see that I'm connected,
     a victim centrepiece.

The wailing grows, intensifies,
     my heart has left my chest.
I know instinctively what's next,
     the host has found the guest.
The air begins to thicken and,
     I find it hard to breathe.
And then the lightning crackles,
     and pray they'll let me leave.

The flash takes place I close my eyes,
     but know the target's mark.
And hear the fizz as evil power,
     spits the serpent's spark.
With one eye slightly open,
     I see the snake's advance,
and wince and wait to seal my fate,
     my piercing by its lance.

What madman plots against my soul,
     clutching at his whim?
Devising schemes of deviance,
     that offer nought but grim.
Why I should be his target fair?
     What crimes did I commit?
I beg you sir right now declare,
     bestow me with your writ.

The noise crescendos, colour breaks,
     as saturation gushes.
The lumens on my eyes burn bright,
     as further on it rushes.
I feel a tingle, but cannot know,
     perhaps anticipation.
I pray the Lord my soul to take,
     and wait for my cremation.

My body burns with neurons bright,
     their shindig in full swing.
And senses overwhelmed, what more,
     will evil try to bring.
My head throws back I scream aloud,
     the pain too much to bear.
As dancing fields electric start,
     to undulate my hair.

When I awake the day is through and,
     Y is brewing tea.
I startle her by screaming out,
     she turns to look at me.
At first I think she's angry,
     but then I read her true.
Concern is spread across her face,
     with eyes of Cobalt blue.

I never saw that colour there before,
     so out of place.
A shade I've never seen beset,
     another humans face.
Yet I know this world is different,
     from the one I called my home.
The colours seem more vibrant,
     is my own so monochrome?

"Are you OK?" she ventures,
     but I know not what to say.
Do I tell her of my nightmares?
     That my fears won't go away?
I'm drawn to her that much is true,
     she seems to feel the same.
And then perhaps to test the waters,
     I quietly speak her name.

"Yolanda," I begin but pause,
     her face is turned to ash.
She holds herself, mid motion, still,
     as if my words too brash.
"Your name." I state with purpose true,
     I need some recognition.
She answers back with trembling lips,
     in act of pure contrition.

"Yes" she says, the single word,
     escapes with tiny gasp.
As if her lips held pressure back,
     restrained with crimson clasp.
"I read your note" I say with smile,
     a fact she clearly knows.
Yet nothing more she offers,
     as a tension deftly grows.

I see her eyes maintain their gaze,
     amid her consternation.
And through the table sitting there,
     continues meditation.
I break her concentration,
     as I rise from floor below.
And see the note she'd written,
     torn in pieces on the throw.

I dip my head into her gaze,
     "Yolanda? Are you there?"
She turns her head but eyes remain,
     in regimented stare.
"Yolanda?" I say again,
     this time her eyes meet mine.
And once again I see that blue,
     a blue I'm sure divine.

When in the throes of fear,
     there was a part of me that thought.
That she could be a party,
     that the truth she would distort.
Yet seeing on her face,
     that utmost feeling terrified.
Left me deep in sorrow,
     that much more, I would have cried.

"I'm sorry," Y confesses,
     "I never should have lied."
I don't know what to say,
     but know her actions justified.
She must have had good reason,
     to her this is no game.
My heart's in battle with my head,
     all because she hid her name.

A part of me is needy,
     a part of me is weak.
A part of me can't do without,
     the girl I've come to seek.
She calls to me in silence,
     she sings songs with no words.
The sweetest tunes I've ever heard,
     that shame the mockingbirds.

My other half is wary,
     he questions all she does.
And when she bakes us loaves of bread,
     he spoils it with; because?
If she is here alone, he says,
     why would she share her food?
Her sources can't be infinite,
     You say she's find it rude?

I say she's up to something,
     he mutters in the night.
I'm scared to let them duel it out,
     I'm frightened of the fight.
For now I need to wait awhile,
     ambivalence prevails.
I'll keep her close and watch her,
     to see what tips the scales.

The evening passes slowly,
     we talk a while and eat.
We sit so close together that,
     my ankles glance her feet.
She talks in low hushed whispers,
     a slight husk in her voice.
I hang on every word,
     as if to hanker after choice.

I must not miss a thing he says,
     every sentence tells a tale.
And if I peer in deep enough,
     I'll touch the hidden Braille.
The Morse under her message,
     the lead between the lines.
I'll catch her secret meanings,
     and avert the sunken mines.

She asks me how I'm feeling,
     if my leg is still in pain.
Is she testing me for fitness,
     so she can leave alone again?
I say it's getting better,
     which is true, I'll tell no lies.
However it is prudent,
     for my safety to be wise.

I'm curious to where she goes,
     and what the lightning means.
If it's real and not a figment,
     that pervades my very dreams.
I sense she's holding back still,
     at our conversations end.
And exchange our parting pleasantries,
     with personas we pretend.

I lay awake here thinking,
     with a brain that's full of nought.
I wish I had some memories,
     to aid my line of thought.
Alas the mind train rattles,
     through stations without care.
No times upon the table,
     to take the traveller anywhere.

The agony of waiting,
     cathartic more than pain.
Erodes away my anxiousness,
     like limestone in the rain.
Tomorrow is another day,
     with troubles quite enough.
Yet you my Lord, I trust, will calm,
     the seas that grow so rough.

I see the dancing shadows,
     from single candle light.
And close my eyes if just to hide,
     and flee the dark of night.
I know I'll find my answers,
     but though it brings me shame,
I'm keeping quiet 'Xavier',
     I'm keeping quiet my name.