Here and there, A giggle and a gasp, Destined for flight.
A broken smile, Masked.
Sea of lament, Waves of chatter, Hiss of betrayal.
An uneven heart, Stuttered.
Across foreign metropolises, Electric moments, Blown promises.
A wayward soul, Crushed.
Never the same, Always relain, Loyalty divided.
Empty eyes, Shuttered.
Miles apart, Shared synergy, Housed together…
On one ball of rock, Isolated.
We are no one, Phantoms on the waves, Course set and bound, Unto the final day.
We are those lost souls, Treading water and ocean light, Hoping to be found, Before utterance begins to pound.
Held by promises faux, And candlelight flickers, We are someone, With somewhere called home.
We are the monsters, Which lurk in shadow’s ground, With naught but malice in our hearts, Easily led astray.
We are forgotten, Lost to eternal winds, Our names no more, Than unspoken sin.
We do not belong, Caught in ire’s grip, Fade into oblivion, We are no more.
Naught but a stick of chalk, Useful and not, Perchance it’s wielded by Cunning hand of prose…
Or ground to powder by Bless’d fist.
Gifted and bland Spewing dusty motes, Toward wretched lungs, Poisoning… or nourishing.
‘Tis life that be One of chance, Naught but a fleeting glance: To be, or not?
Fatalistic motes of light, Pierce shadow’s heart, Promised better overmorrows, Fail to succeed each dismissal tomorrow.
Doom harkens to eerie call… That inaudiable hum.
Naught but glower’s end, And fraught suffering, Against hopelessness’s backdrop, Stained by crimson fears.
Doom harkens to eerie call… That inaudiable hum.
To chase illumination, Is to wager war, against nigh’s percolation, Futile’s task urged to claw, In final, senseless desperation.
Doom harkens to eerie call… That inaudiable hum.
Alas, to burn amongst lour’s grave, Is to ignite inevitable combustion, Tempted by hope… Drowned by spite.
Doom harkens to eerie call… That inaudiable hum.
Against all dolefulness Red ribbons scream with anguish, A susurrate sigh… A warbled blink… An extinguished smile…
Eternal slumber binds To the foresaken, A gift to the living-
Death precedes in timely march, Where naught is fought, And solace departs from tormented shores, Journeying one way
They kept us here.
They kept us until the madness set in.
The madness sets in and we are set free… or so we think.
We claw at our shackles, we shake the bars and we scream defiance.
It didn’t work- It made it worse.
So much worse.
They had found you, dragged you from your home and set your bones in chains.
All because you bore the mark of SoliSis, ‘tis a mark that cannot be broken nor can be forged. SoliSis finds its Keepers, the ones chosen by Harken Sky before the atoms shiver into cells of life.
The city, Kalif, had ordered your ‘complete and fair distancing’ one dawn, which is how you found yourself on the outskirts of The Outcasts.
A ramshackled village, but a honest and just place where you found purpose in your living phase.
Now, you cower under the hard hand of Daemons Guard.
Sequestered away in a lime mortar cell, you curl into the biting chill. Afraid to let the iron clad door out of your sight, you begin to feel the dilerium of exhaustion sneak under your gritty eyelids.
Growling lowly, you curse yourself for your unshakable mark.
There is nothing in your cell, the mattress shrivelled from resting in a space too small. Only irregular patterns of breath dance with the chill of the apparent night, or so you assume. No windows offer the time of day, nor is there the cuckoo clock’s croak.
Your eyelids stumble, browbeaten and deranged; the jerking jangle of fortified key clashing with the derelict lock sounds clear as Death’s Tolling Bell. Snapping drunkenly upright you desperately try to shake yourself awake.
SoliSis will not help you, its power unknown.
Serpentine fingers shoot towards your ghostly-blue skin, sending an army of crawling bugs deep into your soul. You don’t want to be touched… again.
Yet, here you are- defenceless.
“Move, SoliSis branded. Quan wants you to fix blizzard box.”
Gruff, with notes of tenderness, is the voice that hauls you out into the whistling corridor. Wincing at the flints that try their luck to drink the unshod blood, you meekly sprauchle after the towering shadow.
Somehow you are compelled to move without harsh yanks on the bitter, iron bracelets. A new magick perhaps, left only in the Daemons Guard’s fibres.
Only if you knew the truth.
Even that won’t save you… not this time.
Forced through wrought doors, you blink softly as the Daemons Guard’s control loosens. Owlishly, you drink in the midnight velvet, which hangs from twisted bars, and the ceiling telling of Mythes and Legendes.
“Quan be here soon.”
Silence.
Silence descends upon the very soul of the impishly bored.
Quan did not arrive, nor did the ‘blizzard box’.
Yet, Mythos blinks from high above… unnoticed.
Unable to resist temptation of unbidden freedom, your toe draws a lazy circle in the fine film of dust. Giggling, you do it again… and again… and ag-
“Death compels the weak, life deters the strong!”
There is no mouth from which the words are marched.
Desperately, you reach with SoliSis to find the one who owns the tongue of the spoken.
Emptiness rings back, a tinitus buzz.
Why?
Simple, when we know the truth: It is the chamber itself who holds the tongue.
You know nothing.
We know everything.
A lone tear sluggishly pulls itself from your left lacrimal gland, except it fails to roll.
It oozes.
Pushing itself free, it shudders at the sudden drop in temperature… the tear smells off.
You fail to find the tang of salt, instead there is a peculiar wiff of bitter iron.
Tears don’t- shouldn’t- contain iron.
Frantically, you scan the lofty walls and stout ceiling.
Nothing.
“The SoliSis branded weeps, but not of mortal’s tears! Strife has summoned immortal’s blood… so it begins!”
Whirling around you claw at your chest, an animalistic draw of nails.
With unnecessary splendour, four colossal sheets announce their arrival with a storm like wail.
Gone are the scoured bricks, and tactful beads of art.
You are surrounded by Arctolian stillness, something you would have found comforting in archaean times.
Folding into your aching soul, you lap tentatively at the droplet of blood that has reached your lip. A queer mixture of sweet and sour, rolling your own life force around your mouth you note the creamy texture.
Desire flickers to life, you want more.
More More More More More!
Blizzard’s static hisses… roars through the emptying numbness of the looping catacombs of your mind.
Hurling yourself at the frenzied abandon, you howl with soul fire as your cells begin to dissolve.
Bleeding into all and nothing.
Sweet SoliSis, that legendary brand… becomes naught but mortal’s curse.
Anything.
To placate your incessant growl, Anything.
If you want me, You have me, Anything.
Take a silver fish, To sordid flesh, Anything.
Spill the Red Sea, Across marble plains, Anything.
Exhale finality, Expire grief, Anything.
Mute the torment, Dance with jubilation, Anything.
If only you silence, The years of torment, Unwind, rewind, Let me go.
Anything.
Gift me my freedom, Out upon the rolling clouds Of nebula tide, Where life ceases.
I would be anything for you, To take away my pain.
Anything. I would be anything For you If you let me die.
Somber notes ring out, Marking time and counting steps
Counting, catching, calling, The waifs that lose their tether.
Imprinted upon the mind, Sordid twists of vines evergreen.
Tightening… Tightening… TIGHTENING!
Unable to breathe, Unable to stay, No longer the desire to be.
Silver flashes of thunder bolts, Paints agonising red, Unzipping the subtle shadows.
Bead of a tear, Drop of sweat, Shuddering relief.
New mouths gape, Gasping in oxygen’s burn, Until pain morphs to pleasure.
Pleasure born from torment, A constant want for feeling, Found only in light’s darkness.
Giddy, dizzy, drunk, Sweet iron rivers flow, Downwards, only downwards.
Tributaries collide, Bound for passing seas, And Winter’s eclipse.
Windows slide shut, Weathering the storm, Which batters every synapse.
Someday Spring will bring Silent reveries, Of phantasical love…
A warmth that never came, For not all are designed for connection, An aching isolation.
Hold on a little while longer, ‘Til the day where freedom breaks, It will come
And they will never
Touch you again
Slipping beyond the veil
Life becomes death, As death becomes life, We live in a land where the footprints of ghosts linger.
‘Neath the surface anguish wakes A frail knot unbecoming There was
Unshed longing Unheard tears Unknown fissures Unplanned isolation
Where there once was Unbridled light of connection Now lies strangled webs of loneliness
Glyphs strung together Like dew drops in innocence A glint of mischievous commonality
E V A P O R A T E S
Leaving naught but inperceivable chill The shudder that runs Beyond what’s comprehendable And deep into wretched bones
Joy no longer Typography morphs to tyranny A personal Hell
Damned to incarceration In one’s imagination A tenuous saviour
The writer is suspended Between existing and not-
Beneath the surface The writer is doomed Riddled with forsaken’s curse
The mortal and immortal Reality and imagined Blur bend become
One.
Here… Here… Ereh…
We are here, And we want to play, Don’t you… want to play?
Scared of a game? We know you are, You can’t escape- Not this time.
Catch the whisper, Catch the touch, Catch the sound, Caught- Not quite.
You’ll never win, Not against the Mirrors, Cryptic and clear- You are not what you see.
Come, dance: One… two… three.
Turn around, Your past behind… Your future too- Around, turn.
Here… Here… Ereh…
We only reflect-
We only reflect what we know-
What you know.
You think, we know.
We think, you know.
A little game… You cannot win.
Here… Here… Ereh…
Held you for the last time, Under artificial lights, As the wonder faded From your eyes.
Out there, beyond the walls, A vibrant shade of melancholy Blankets our world… My world.
Leaves shake their mourning bells, Calling all to heed, The passing of a soul beloved, A single breath exhaled.
Rain falls not, Except down crumpled checks, Tiny caresses That land on your back.
Do you think the sun gets lonely up there?
Not with you around.
My final gift to you, The greatest gift of all: Freedom.
Grief became my burden On that day…
With you, The sun can never feel lonely, You became the unreachable light, My guiding star.