Regeneration

Empty hands are not closed anymore.
...They enclose my ears.
Swaying my head side to side
Reducing the simplest fears.

Fingernails barely touch my skin
Tickling with diseased ecstasy
Chuckling softly to myself
This seems so right to me.

Picture the hands with darkened creases
Grayish skin divine
Nails are black with eternal age
This demon, I know, is mine.

Sending tingles through my muscle
Shushing me to sleep
Singing softly a lullaby
So that I may not weep.

Moving my head side to side
My eyes closed with ease
What I feel as angelic mother
Is what others know as disease...

...Sitting silently in the dark
No one here to see
Still I feel the fingers massage
...The only one here is me.

See? The darkness grows within
Like a beseeching moss
Sprouting wings so eager to fly
Granting my eyes a radiant crimson gloss.

Listen close, I hear them well...
Still I sit so still at night
Spiritual sparkles glisten around me
As I listen to their demonic delight.