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Through lifetimes

Through lifetimes

Posted November 5th, 2018 by Ninasilverrose

by Nina
in British Columbia

November 5th, 2018

At first, there was nothing. Just the rotting grass and frozen winds, the tinted sky which seemed grey and the polluted hearts of humanity. Music with no heart nor song; the outcome of emotionless figures whom stood before the sea,  long gone dry and dusted. The sun brought none other than burning lights and destruction.

The chaos, agonizingly still as if a thunder no longer lit in the grey haze. One wondered how to fly and the other thought how to create flight, in which were both different things altogether. Then came the candle-lit homes in which darkness found it's way, crawling and sighing great sighs just to show it was there.

None knew the sweet or gentle tone of loving haste, rather they cared only for war and chaos in which resided all the darkness your heart desired. Who was not the question, for all were equally corrupt; why, was what one would want to ask. Open your books to see the who and when, never the why. Why must one have done this?

None wish to comply with such simplicity because it is so simple. Simple meant unintelligent too many times, etching inside our hearts as we define beauty. Beauty is tender as it rains down upon the earth, however reach for it and you will burn.

Thorns crawl and find their way to the calming sounds of the wind as it blows all away into nothingness. One listens for days and remains deaf, he who cannot hear. Another listens to the flowers and the trees rather the wind and hears their whispers as they tell sweet secrets.

The darkness slowly consumes all light which is stored here within, shouting and raging over the brightness which remains. Thus comes the shock of sweet games, which they control with what remains in their hands. They shake and flee thoughts and creatures whom live on bright static and think they exist only there and that they have escaped them. The hearts of their music pretends to love but lies, making it seem as if a game. 

All forget the tender love and get together to just touch, to feel warmth and protection. Few remember, but fewer act on it, believing what music will feed with lies. Listen closely, hear the soulless tones in which resides a song. Ask away, ask away the simple question:


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