A Fallen Devil

His jaw, strong as steel and powerful and the approaching storm,

pat pat pat, his light feet go as he steps over bramble and bush,

the trees creak and whisper about his arrival,

the devil staggers, 

the swirling mist making shapes before him,

a crack alerts him to a creature of the trees,

the devil bares his fangs at the intruder in his domain,

the creature cocks its head, its brain ticking like thousands of tiny golden gears,

the devil scratches the lesions on his face and howls in pain,

"What is wrong, great devil of the land?" asks the creature of the trees.

"I am hurt, I am sick," the devil replies,

the mist parts and reveals bones,

endless bones,

never-ending bones,

the creature leaps down and places its paw on the lesions,

its paw like silk against the sick animal’s face,

"I am hurt, I am sick, I am dying," the devil whispers feebly.

his heartbeat slows and his body goes limp.

"Rest in peace, great devil of the land."