S P A Z O

The sound is unmistakable .... but it doesn't do justice to what happened ..... a blade is thrust in ... sharp .... very sharp .... body doesn't know what happened ..... until the eye sends an alert on seeing blood .... the horror comes first ..... the pain follows later..... the blade has gone deep .... pulling it out would be more painful than letting it stay in ..... yet some things must be done .... so the blade is pulled ... each microsecond unbearable .... amidst screams ... the body begs to be unconscious ..... as if that wasn't enough ... the blade was poisoned .... ensuring that the wound does not heal ... the skin never grows .... and blood clots only reluctantly ...... yet the body must function .... it does .... but life seems paler than any fathomed death ..... Yet a time comes ... when the same enemy has to be faced again .... all senses beg to run away ... but you hold the legs ... the body struggles against the mind .... the mind forces a submission .... but the energy lost in the struggle tires even before the swords are drawn ..... but you hold the ground ... for retreat is cowardice .... wishing a win ... or at least a dignified end ... but the enemy has neither in mind .... the only target is your un-healed wound ... old - and dark .... the pain potent and alive as if eternal .... and the blade plunges down a familiar path .... the fragile blood clot cannot hold it back .... the body staggers back .... there is no strength to draw the blade out .... so the enemy comes to a sinister aid .... pulling the blade back slowly .... its only then on top of pain ... you recognize that this time the blade isn't poisoned but delivered red hot .... the enemy eases it back through an old wound .... and you see your own blood drying in the red heat .... Will thy end me ? ...... you ask ..... 'Nay!' .... comes back with a laugh .... the eyes close ... in ancient greek ..... SPAZO.