You don’t hear much about him today, but he’s close, he’s been around for a long time, the ancient demon, Asmodeus, a baleful creature from a mummy-like abyss. And this is a story of his nature, consciousness, and his presence.

As in a pestilential mist, he slowly gets stuck on his way, compared through a muddy river bed in dreams in the circuit of the mind, like a beautiful and dire succubi, trying to rape men, beasts or maidens, producing a nightmare, while sitting on your chests, in the middle of a midnight moon. And like a thief in the night, Asmodeus slipped into my dreams last night, this demonic beast born from hell, as if in a cell and its core, ere.

Why? Perhaps he was unable to quell his agitation with me, which I discovered, earlier that afternoon, the one that so many in the past have had to use exorcism to trick him into leaving his home away from home! Perhaps I offended him, and that was his hideous penance, demons can be counter-attackers as well as instigators; they tend to have macabre hunger and incubus desires. But Asmodeus likes to devour men, put them in supernatural awe. Not so different from many demons, his thinking and his presence change from moment to moment, restless, impulsive, impetuous. So he wanders the crowded bazaars of my unconscious (and has done so for centuries before me in countless numbers), during his twilight: optimistic for whatever reason to create evil, and yes, he almost did it once or twice. like a sea cradling. , it appears slightly as if it arose out of nowhere only to then return through the abrupt, rough and narrow ridges of my mind, to its abode, inn or dungeon; But I got a glimpse of it before I cast it in the name of the Lord.

He was a strange semi-weave of solid matter and gloom, in lightningless silver armor (like cold steel) with a chill of deadly menace and desolation on his face and inside his eyes.

This demonic being, with agitated eyes, orbiting and fatigued spinning like a top, compared to the earth spinning counterclockwise, while orbiting the sun, with its ghouls hidden, full of dark misgivings, all listening, looking waiting behind that gloom sepulchral, ​​while moment by moment the darkness continues to close in, and emerging with its seething and intangible anthropomorphic diabolical form, Asmodeus, murderer of husbands, destroyer of families, hides in a shadow among the shadows, looking for an exit to the mind, an emission of light, -especially among the elderly, sunk in their cyclopean sleep, their weakened ceilings, unprotected flanks, with weak hearts, to create pandemonium, evil, to scare them to death, like the incubus who sits on the chest to inflict nightmares.

Yes, it was as if he came out of the catacombs, overcome by resignation, the oppression thickened the air in my REM sleep, I was awakened by this horror and his difficult situation, it suffocated me a little, I was the end of his corridor, I sank in a gasp and gasp, I wanted to put myself on the icy stone, I think. His rustic eyes, looking with his eyes, drawn from the gloom, if he had not awakened who could say, a dead poet, yes or no, was sent to a carnal house, the house of bones, the house of impedimenta, before its time! Maybe, maybe not! But his gaze with his eyes was made with caution.

Everything happened in a flash like a slit, inside a hollow of a dream, from a half-open exit in my mind, and with its impulse to invade, it was only repressed by a push to wake me up, intuition, the demon backs up and fades into faint, dubious whispers of mist (thank God and my wife for his conscience), back to his eternal death, to his birthplace of demons, one he knows too well, so well, and one that he knows that I also know. , his hell.

And as soon as I arrived, the drowsiness took hold of me, I nodded sleepily, to my heart and my mind, relieved by the disappearance of those stealthy eyes, thus, I closed my eyes like portals closed only by perches, and I immersed myself more and deeper into an amazing old black ebony out of nowhere.

# 5253 / 5-29 and 30-2016