My fuse has grown short with all this burning.

I am still smoking, a meteor crashed to Earth.

When the end is not the end,

But a gateway into Hell,

What can you do but endure your demons

Until they grow weary with gnawing at your flesh

And say, “You win. The exit is straight ahead and to the right.”

At times I’ve danced with them, found them amusing,

But they would always do something sneaky then,

And prove that we are not friends,

And that they are bent on destroying me.

They are not sentimental.

But then, neither is Kali.

They don’t know that I am she,

And that I will eat them all,

When they least expect it.