Visionary Heads

It came to rest in the corner of my room, concealing its face under the cover of a cool twilight. I struggled to perceive its smooth contours as it remained motionless, yet my dancing eyes persuaded me otherwise. It was breathing; a soft, slow pulse. Its dynamic frame overcame me, this wild beast was hungry for me. Its eyes, ruby-red, glowed demonically; a glow which filtered through my eyes, deep into my mind.
If it had already captured me, it understood me; as if, with each sound, it was deeper within me. I could sense it smell my essence, taste the vapour trails of my soul which snaked through bone and tissue.
Suddenly I was aware of a draining sensation, something falling away from me as this threatening force inhaled my last thought, my last incentive to exist. My lifeless body seemed to float, all senses became one, and then it sang to me, it started with a mechanical groan. And as if it knew my needs, my self-indulgent need to suffer, to test my sanity; it sang to me as to centre upon directly my cravings, the desire to bend and distort my already weakening grip on a constant reality.
It drew out of me, skinning me alive, it sought after only one thing. It pushed skull and ribs aside, then it really sang; a thousand noises, a thousand voices rolling from its ancient invisible tongue. And so my future was no longer my own, the beast knew where it was taking me, where it was dragging me.
It watched with precision the movements of my thoughts and as my desires chased new unreachable ideals it came hurtling at me, screaming out in human tongue and with the voice came a storm. Wave after wave, through the darkness, it eddied around my room, a vortex of layered sounds, arousing my fear and drawing it past all reason. And in that moment I could taste the pure ecstasy, and in that moment I let myself drown, and dissolve.
Then it came to rest and I was finally pulled clear from the intrinsic thunder of my zealous imaginings. The beast curled and retreated, it was no longer needed. The lights still glowed unwaveringly but no longer eyes. The beast had appeased its hunger; its music had been a ritual fire for its private dance, but now only smouldering ashes, an ambience, soft and luxuriant.