Tag Archives: death

Withering roots

He stood in the sandstorm defiant but weak. He knows it was happening, it was only a matter of time. In arrogance, he’d dug his roots deep into the ground, dreaming of giving it life. Instead, his roots have long since died – they were only gold and glitter in his mind. But deep inside, they were fragile – they were dying like the dust particles strewn around by the wings of a butterfly.

His tears his the ground and the sand breathed life, but his sacrifice has died long before it was made. It was ridiculed, it was hated, it was shunned by all as he stood there wet in his confusion. The tears left trails of memories across his face like dry lakes and rivers. Death slowly spread up from his roots into his legs. But he just stood there, dying in the gloom of his despair and fears.

He’d never been the kind of person who would look at the future – that was the realm of the clairvoyant. He only knew how to dig into the dreams and chew on hope to sustain himself. He regretted the falling petals that left him bare to the elements of the chipping little axes. He pushed his roots down deeper as the singing continued to drift from far away.

The floating fish appeared in and out, one minute at his roots the other whispering in his ear. It was not comfort anymore, however. When it found him again this time, he was broken – the remnant of who he was when he bloomed in that fateful winter. Now it was too late for him. He had failed to make piece with his dreams and his fears, but they couldn’t care less. They both just stood there, unlovable witnesses to the rot eating away at his root.

There is no life in that soil anymore. What once stood defiant was now just one more sick lie made in the face of the piranhas that swam through the sandstorm. All he could see was their stealing little knives biting at his proud branches that once picked color directly from the sun. In a purple storm, the sandstorm consumed him, bringing him down to his knees.

In a last frantic attempt he cried out to the ground, looking for something to hold him in place – to save him one more time. But the ground had no life. It never did. He only thought so in his arrogance of blind. There had ever only been death that moved through his blood. He was born to a grand visage, only to die in the piss of failed dreams. He cried out to the sun, but he knew it has long since forgot him.

His roots withered, and the stings of the sandstorm took away his eyesight. All he could see was his lifeless blood, drawing out cosmic rays of life around the world. All he could do was sigh as the rot spread out through him, finally bringing him to his knees to lay with the other lifeless dreams that have died here.

The devouring unicorn

When their swords clashed in a silvery storm, the sand beneath their bare feet shuddered. Fear. There are no two outcomes from here, only one. There is no winners and losers. The sand has already lost.

They danced around like lovers drunk on deep black ink. It flowed around them like drops of black rain and threads of hollow music. Ducking and jumping, twirling and waltzing, it all became a blurry blaze caught in the eye of the sun.

The cloudy unicorn floated lazily above them, shielding them from the burning screams of the fiery moon. There are no two outcomes here. The unicorn will feed on soul tonight. It hissed them on, tasting the angry tentacles of their souls with each clash of their swords. So close. Just a little longer before the scope down.

The sword flashed like a stealing whip out of nowhere, finding it’s soft home deep inside. There was no flash of lightening or naked nymphs. There was a silence, profound, traveling endlessly between the mountains they could not see.

The silence echoed out across the universe. Every being held its breath and bowed in reverence and awe. The deed was done the debt was paid. Now there was only chaos.

The unicorn burped as it floated lower to get drunk. There are no losers and winners here. Only a winner – as it was always meant to be. And it had no blood on its hand, just lots of it on its smile. When it spread it’s wings, it covered all the land in darkness. They both shivered, one on his feet and one on his knees, like the sun was sniffed out.

The dry sand wept blood as he crept slowly bit by bit to lie down. There are no losers and winners here. Only a devourer – as it was always meant to be. They can play their little games, speak their ages old lies, it did not care. It will always feed anyways.

Remember when we died?

Remember when we died?
Remember how we had no notion of being heroes back then
We just pulled up like horned giants and grabbed life by its rich fabrics
And just leaped?

Remember when we went digging in the trash and found gold?
We sprinkled it in the air and everything it touched was reborn
When we talked, we roared
When we roared, the elements stood still in awe

Remember when we finally fell to the mud
It wasn’t by the stones or bullets flying at us like the reaper’s scythe
Those only stripped away our fragile lies and exposed our golden engraved will
It was by the razors of friends, thrown like whirling nightmares,
That cut us and our dreams down to size

They said there’s no dignity in death
But we didn’t care when we spat at death,
Determined to rise as we kill death
We would fly away to become fiery birds of legend
To become rains of life, of love, of peace

Remember when we finally died
It wasn’t as glorious a as we thought it to be
We were just left there bleeding on the sidewalk
Like rabid dogs they hardly looked at us anymore

Come sip with me of the grand wines of the forgotten
For as they rub off our names from their history with spit
The stars will forever tell tales of what we did
We are not of this world, my brothers and sisters

We belong to the sky and we will never be brought down
And when the sun sets on our dreams,
Very few will remember when we died