Soulhulk

They lie fallow like an unploughed field. Immobilised, never fulfilled. Like abandoned ships on the beach waiting for their turn. It will never come in their shallow lives. They never fully realise their disadvantage as a dredge. A sweet monetary deal is the best reward for all their hardships. That will be all. That is enough. On weekends, they roar and rampage, repine and reciprocate. For all the malice they encountered during the days spent in the shade. They want to be prominent; they want to rule. Due to the lack of royal reality next to them. The only veracity they accept is the zoo. Despite the stormy weather and hateful faces around. They need to have fun, no matter the time. They don’t pay, government funds wasted on education fuelled by alcohol and drugs.

One day they will grow up. They will surely have children of their own. For procreation must add a unique sense to this shallowness in shorts. They will prompt the fruits of their loins to do the same. Direction of not recognised in time shibboleth. They will wash their hands in this damn river and say, “It was worth getting to know life in a nutshell”. But in the end, that’s all they did. Everything will turn to ash and stone. Ash and stone will be all it gets. To turn the solicitous lives of others into pure hell.

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