Saturday, 28 May 2016

Opposite the Nadir

The igneous surface, I am walking on, has a tremendous sound stored in it, but in a dense state, so that the land appears dead. The colour is thick black; it stains me anew with every step that I take, entering breath by breath within. Smog heavy mood, like heavy chains, has made me hunchbacked. Hollow quietude stays along, walking next to my faint shadow. I utter nothing, nothing at all, all noise is of the wind; the wind ruffles around greasily, overwhelming me with dullness. The mind is whimsical I tell myself after some days journey; I continue ahead. Where to, I ask, am I going?

That was the last I heard from myself. But I am still walking, walking towards what lies opposite the nadir.

Not Alone

You are not alone Know this and take the way home Not to the concrete walls Or to those fairy dolls For Time is playing an old ...