I walked through a fog of bright light and I can't find myself.
But it's all good, cause I won't need me for much longer.
I'll travel thee world in my underground mind, a labrynth of loss in a jungle of forgotten memories.
" I don't want to" she said, her eyes wide shut, her bod curled as much as she could against her chains of flesh and blood.
The cool metal caressed her, romanced her, brought her to the edge, showed her the abyss of cool steel and silk, so tempting and repulsive.
"You must", but the voice faded into the void of dreams, that place between life and death where the world is misty and veiled, but the brilliant can see into the black morning.
"The blind can see, and the genius darlings sit dumb in the corner. You are niether and unwelcome, Sweet Love, because we don't accept you brand of innocence here"
Acceptance! Acceptance? What kind of word is that? What does it even mean?
I refuse to accept their non-acceptance!
Can I even do that?
Hypocrites, all of us!!!
"I can't look, can't, can't, can't" The words echoed in the dark and musky hall, a hushed rasp against the backdrop of tortured screams torn daily from the throats of special pets by gentle lovers.
"He's make a lovely corpse"**
"Of course, of course, but HOW?"
Complete the gory process, love, show that you truly care about their souls by setting them free....it's not murder if they beg for it first, you'll see the truth of it by the light of the new moon night.
Watch the beautiful and soulful madness catch hold with your very naive eyes, if only you are brave enough.
"You know the how already, it's the why that you're really missing"
"The 'y', the fucking 'y'! How dare e foget that sweet, unashamed letter. Without it, there would be no 'z', and the French, oh, how the French would mourn their language then"
If only she could break the chains, the ties that bound her irreversibly and without remorse in the Labrynth of Thought.
She tried to think it through rationally, but how can one be rational if each thought binds you closer to the flames of hell?
It was a silly move if ever there was one, because she got caught without her crumbs.
And then the milk jug was prophetic, hidden by it's shady colors in the crate.
The Prophecy was laid
and she did all her King bade
And still she couldn't Breathe. |
Submission Name: prophecies on the situation
