Beauty is Only Skin Deep. Just Ask the Demons.

I had a strange dream in the still of this morning, the like of which I haven’t had for some time. In said dream, I was a man being plagued by a demon, masquerading as my wife. The demon possessed my wife, for many years it seemed she had been possessed, and an intangible and unidentifiable, but strong ugliness shone from behind her face. This ugliness was not clear initially because her face itself looked young and beautiful, as if a mature, but young age had been preserved in the face of this elderly woman. The ugliness I speak of shone through her eyes. When I realized the root of her ugliness, I sought to leave her, for I knew she was no longer my wife. Her eyes no longer shone forth her own soul, but had alternate desires and motivations. When I renounced her and sought to leave her, the demon left her body and she decayed, lifeless, before my eyes. The demon still floated before me, charging me to come with him to see my wife, but I refused him, telling him there were higher purposes. His form briefly materialized and my wife’s young face reappeared. Young and beautiful, but with that ever lingering ugliness beneath. I repelled the demon and told it to leave me, but it came after me again, showing this time a hideous mask of my wife with sunken eyes of ash and tar and with decayed sharp teeth and with skin of deep creases of age, with a mouth that had no tongue, no throat, no end to its darkness. It charged me to follow it, for it was my wife, it said, and I was bound to it. But I threw the demon from its meddling in my thoughts and as it attempted to tighten its grip on me, I spoke to it with great force, telling it that I had a higher marriage, to the Most High Lord, that I was his bride and this shattered any other marriage, any other binding contract this world may have on me. The demon, unable to hear such things sought to frighten me, and showed it’s ugly face once more, flying from me and then straight towards me, as if to frighten me.

I was startled by a knock on my door; a dear friend of mine had arrived for an appointment. I opened the door a little crack and remembered vividly the face of the demon, showing me but a hint of the ugliness that must be hell, and shaking this image from my eyes, I saw my friend, bewildered, at my door. I quickly welcomed her in and apologized for my stunned mood, explaining my dream. And now it falls on me to put it forth for you dear people. Perhaps it will teach one of you something.

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2 thoughts on “Beauty is Only Skin Deep. Just Ask the Demons.

    • I do not think that discerning is my key point. My primary role tends to be receiving and reciprocating messages, I’m not always given discernment, but I am learning that trait with time and some Holy help. 😉

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