The Reluctant God

You raised it.

Birthed it from your skull

like some crazed Athena.

You let it feed

off of your body

and soul

until it became you--

or you became it

whichever you prefer.

And when you sought

to kill the demon,

and cried for mercy,

and begged the priests

to allow you exorcism;

they politely declined,

preferring you damned.

Pleading to the world

to help free you from possession

the powers turned away

and the hordes tore at you

for wanting to salvage your soul

from the hell you created.

For years you laid

chained to the rock

while vultures picked at your liver

until finally it died

and Olympus itself ransomed

you from your bonds.

Which sweet goddess was it,

that fed you her blood

to reanimate your beaten corpse?

Do you even know?

Now you sleep alone

without the demon at your side

whispering curses in your ear.

But after ten years of marriage

to the fiend

the people sit and wonder

if you will invite it back again.

Do you have the strength left,

after all this time,

to keep your soul free

should it come back

asking forgiveness?

Seeking reconciliation

with a gentle smile and bearing gifts,

could you turn your back

on the child you birthed,

raised, taught, and loved?

Or would you open your arms

and cry as you embraced?