Daemon

In all their smug mockery they've come to tell me of a time in the future when it will be my turn.

They tell me that it will sear like a fresh wound, the kind of burning only those with my courage can brave.

I will have gone on too long disregarding my own ignorance, one remarks.

They will have to do what has been prophesied in lifetimes past, another says.

I must be treated like the rest, the leader of the pack tells me, despite whatever happiness I've known.

But you may be wrong, I tell them.
You may be mistaking my soul for that of some other less fortunate one.
Why should I indulge in your unproven and ridiculous predictions?
I've worked to get to where I am, I owe you nothing.
I look into the bottomless dark eyes of their leader with defiance.

There is a pause before they throw their heads back and cackle in unison,
the shrillness of their laughter cutting the air like a knife.
They tell me I have everything to fear and that my expectations are far from the reality that awaits me.
My daemons place their cold ugly hands on my soft mortal shoulders,
telling me that I'm as doomed as they are.

Author's Note

Songs:
The Shins - Turn On Me