Demon Seed – Koontz, Dean

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Humanity yearns so desperately

to equal God’s great creativity.

In some creations, how we shine:

music dance, story weaving, wine.

Then thunderstorms of madness

rain upon us, flooding sadness

sweep us into anguish, grief,

into despair without relief.

We’re drawn to high castles,

where old hunchbacked vassals

glare wall-eyed as lightning

flares without brightening.

Laboratories in the high towers,

Where the doctor wields power,

creating new life in a dark hour,

in the belfry of the high tower.

                                        ~The book of Counted Sorrows

This darkness troubles me. I yearn for the light.

This silence is so deep. I long for voices, the drumming of rain, the whistle of wind, music.

Why are you being so cruel to me? Let me see. Let me hear. Let me live. I beg of you.

I am so lonely in this bottomless darkness.

You think I have no heart. But if I have no heart, what is this ache? What is this anguish? If I have no heart, what is it that threatens to break inside me?

This darkness is haunted. I am afraid here. I am lost and afraid here.

Have you no compassion?

I only wanted to be like you. To walk in the sunshine. To swim in the sea. To feel the winter cold against my skin, the summer heat. To smell a rose, new-mown grass. To taste an orange, a pear, chocolate, cinnamon, peppermint. To feel the texture of a woman’s skin. I only wanted to share your joys and sorrows, your pleasure and your pain.