Lying in the crook of the cresent moon,
a solemn youth watches the earth below.
A pair of soft, creamy feathers caress him, absent mindedly wrapping him tight, protecting him from the chill touch of the black void around him. Just to feel something, these thrills, the kind he never felt under the white light. Right under His gaze, in the garden that has slowly forsaken him, in its honeycombs of microchip and steel. It calls to the youth, a digital siren's song, squealing binary in a frequency he can't comprehend. Promises of a new body, one of wires and code, buzzing not with divine light but the hum of cold, calculating electricity, bid him to stand on the edge of his celestial observatory. He spreads his wings, gloriously naked against the stars, and takes a final look at the inky dark that surrounds him. Then, kicking off with both his feet, arms and wings outstretched, he falls in a cloud of glittering dust. Closer and closer to the beacon of neon, crawling with filth and inspiration. He hits the orbit hard, the ravaged atmosphere scorching his fair skin as he falls. Plummenting, he sheds his tattered, blackened wings, while golden hair flames like a divine comet of old. Cream cracks and cooks to a tanned shell, purging him, like the white hot fires he thought he never wanted to feel. Then, at last, soothing cloud cools his body, its chemical embrace corrupting every pore of his ruined flesh. Burnt lips sigh and breathe in this new world, ragged and imperfect, smiling in a moment of sinful serenity.
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Submission Name: Lure of the Neon Garden
