(13) - Confrontation Poem by James Grengs

I can feel him.
-Nemesis-
He hunts,
I hunt.
The darkness,
Shadows,
Cemetery.
I come here often:
The wisdom and might of the ages
Is buried here.
It is daring,
To be so predictable.
Another would fear his enemy’s coming;
Not I-
I am confident in my strength.

He draws near.
-The approach of the end.-
I am still, savoring
The sheer feeling of my enemy.
He is come for my soul,
I for his body.

He is aware, tonight.
I do not remember a time
When his presence has been so keen.
He knows me-
My essence,
My being.
And he is prepared.

Speech, my power.
With it, I delay my victims,
Deaden their senses,
Dull their brain-
Then I may strike.

I speak to him.
He hides in the shadow-

“The night has come for you, Nemesis.”

“I fear no darkness.”

“I am the thing
That comes for you in the darkness.
Fear me.”

He scorns me, outwardly.
-I know that inwardly he fears.-
“Thing of darkness,
I have something against you.”

I know what thing he speaks of
-Who he speaks of.-
I know his loss,
His pain,
His anger.
I mock him:
“She is beautiful, now.”

“I have seen her.
I have touched her.”

-A miracle that he is alive,
If that is true.-

I smell his blood,
Metallic,
A true delicacy.
-I hunger.-
I laugh, dry and brittle:
The laugh of the Changed.


“I think she has touched you, as well.
There is danger in her lips, Nemesis.
There lurks there eternity.”

His shadow moves. Closer.
I can feel his heartbeat,
Throbbing inside my skull.
The animal in me wakes.
The unholy appetite stirs in my soul.
I need Nemesis: he alone
Will satisfy me now.

I move, angling
For an attack.
He sees it, knows.
I think for an instant:
He knows of my hunger,
And -worse- believes.

I have said before,
I respect this mortal.
This respect holds me back,
Calms my hunger.

He speaks again:
“Darkness, I am light.
Death, I am life.
I am your ending.
Look on me, and know fear.”

A blaze! Fire- a torch in his hand!
On his chest, the sign of the cross.
-The end, in that sign:
The abyss waits.-
An inhuman scream
-My own.-
Terror.
He attacks, a stake in his hand;
I deflect the blow-
The stake misses its mark,
Plunges into my arm.
-I feel no pain;
I am dead.-
His torch- the flame
Dances in my eyes.
I am dazed,
Blind.
I can feel the flames of the abyss,
Burning.
I call on my strength,
Fight him off;
My soul clings to its existence.
For a moment, I consider
Drinking him-
But I cannot:
He is strong, now.
My hunger wanes, reluctantly.
I will drink him-
This I vow;
But I retreat now,
Not defeated,
Only weakened.

I disappear into the darkness:
We will meet again.