'I, a demon, bear witness that there are no more demons left. Why demons, when man himself is a demon? Why persuade to evil someone who is already convinced?'
'There is no further need for demons. We have also been annihilated. I am the last, a refugee. I can go anywhere I please, but where should a demon like me go? To the murderers?'
'I suck on the letters and feed myself. I count the words, make rhymes, and tortuously interpret and reinterpret each dot.
Aleph, the abyss, what else waited?
Beth, the blow, long since fated.
Gimel, God, pretending He knew,
Daleth, death, its shadow grew.
Hai, the hangman, he stood prepare;
Vov, wisdom, ignorance bared.
Zayeen, the zodiac, signs distantly loomed;
Chet, the child, prenatally doomed.
Tet, the thinker, an imprisoned lord;
Yud, the judge, the verdict a fraud.
Yes, as long as a single volume remains, I have something to sustain me. As long as the months have not destroyed the last page, there is something to play with. What will happen when the last letter is no more, I'd rather not bring to my lips.
When the last letter is gone,
The last of the demons is done.'
Isaac Bashevis Singer
The Last Demon
I'm thinking about words...what language can bring forward, what it can hold back...
Words always fail me.
Have words to be embodied in order not to deceive, not to do evil?
Isn't the body enough?