| Subject: - And you don't seem to understand - |
Author:
Lydan
|
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Date Posted: 15:29:18 05/22/02 Wed
In reply to:
…::Cynic::…
's message, "± They’re Stepping On My Tiny Fairy Wings ±" on 14:46:05 05/13/02 Mon
[x. i am falling .x]
[x. i am fading .x]
[x. i am drowning .x]
[x. help me to breathe .x]
[x. i am hurting .x]
[x. i have lost it all .x]
[x. i am losing .x]
[x. help me to breathe .x]
- Obsidian beast looms forth, froth dancing across tongue, rabid sensations overtaking unstable mind. Overtaxed muscles continue working at master's will, dancing beneath wiry frame, slender, aged figure appearing younger than already youthful years. With shadow dancing behind lithe figurine, skull droops, unable to sustain dominering pose any longer. Listless whicker weeps from parted lips, exiled rouge seeking sanctuary beneath the harsh UV glare. Heaving slightly, he continues sidling forth, ignorant of oblivious family, caring not for their whiny nostalgia. Caring only for the hunt, brute continues forth, the predator loosing sight of the prey day by day, seeking out only a fantasy, an illusion, the oasis in a death valley. Hooves continue to beat against the earth, where one day the soil might swallow the hopeless demon, dragging him back once again into the Tempter's awaiting grasp, where his neck might be wrung and snapped, an idle twig dangling from an already dead tree. Shaking skull, delusionary mind forgets the notion, once more thinking only of a fallen angel. Cranium lifts once more. A saviour he swore to himself he would be. One day, upon his shoulders the celestial being would stand, to grasp towards her homelands, to feel the gentle breeze tousle against her forelock, the fairies dancing about her radiant frame. Once again mocking thoughts are lost in the endless void of whimsical desire. With crossed eyes and faint heart, youthful eagle continues walking, ignoring the sweat drops dancing along his brow, stinging down into his eyes, ignoring the matted dirt sticking to his sides, the blazing heat swelling about his figure. Thinking not of starved stomach nor parched throat, bronc continues, seeking sanctuary beneath the mighty cave of angel feathers.-
[x. and you dont seem to understand .x]
[x. a shame you seemed an honest man .x]
[x. and all the fears you hold so dear .x]
[x. will turn to whisper in your ear .x]
[x. and you know what they say might hurt you .x]
[x. and you know that it means so much .x]
[x. and you dont even feel a thing .x]
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