The Evagenlist

Sleeping pills can keep one drowsy, shut out the angst and feel but nothing

Yet to find total closure for terrors of the past, a saddened man now entered

the hospital at last

Ninth door to the left, laid all answers to what had kept him drunk for all

those years

A gently knocking but no answer, hesitated for a second then turned the knob

and stepped inside

In front of him a well made bed, in it a woman sleeping, he pulled up a chair

So fragile and so helpless, he took her hand and held it and whispered in her

ear

Edward

“My dear Ms. Sinclair, you are my mother and a whore of evil

How could you leave me there in that old church, why

My first vague memories of Father Dorian and me on my knees

He stole my boyhood early, him and the other priests

While preaching I was dirty and needed to be cleansed

Baptized my young face with soggy semen every evening while tears ran

Alternated with violent whipping in God’s name, I was a child of shame.

Dorian, he sodomized my weak and childish body

The cross went inside my ravished rear end and bent me open

Those yellow teeth still haunt my dreams

Caged from daylight inside a cellar, he kept me locked up ‘til pleasure he

craved

I know God’s light is shining but this molested soul will never see a heaven

that I am certain of

My dear Ms. Sinclair, you are my mother and a whore of evil

How could you leave me there in that old church, why

Then one night I noticed he’d forgotten to lock the doors and I saw my chance

I sneaked out and ran off, foggy air, morning dark, the grass was wet

I’d been there for so long, not sure of my age, the wicked Father D. may he

burn in hell

You must die oh spiteful bitch, you put me there.”

Slowly she opened her eyes and stared at him silent at first

Felt she was squeezing his hand, the wrinkly old hag

Ms. Sinclair

“My dear boy, my dear Edward let me tell you of your past

Please son ease down, sit down and listen to me

I was born where you grew up, daughter of Father Dorian

His line of blood runs deep, deeper than you can possibly imagine

Night after night he robbed me of pride

Pleasing his need, a child of his breed that never could smile

Instead of playing with a dolly I had to play with him

In my mouth I can still taste his salt veiny skin

Barely fertile yet daily raped, his holy seed

Finally my girly womb managed to impregnate

My father, my lover had now made me a mother

As he delivered my baby I wept to God

I left the church right after my baby boy was born

I was replaced by my infant to be my father’s toy

That toy was you dear Edward and I’m glad I left you there

Our Father’s love for his children can never be compared.”