Prose
Lost and Found
A man wanders through a desert, paying no heed to the ephemeral path his footsteps etch in the sands. He walks without seeing, for he steps without looking. He despairs to discover the truth: that he is all alone in this world, and that there is not the smallest drop of compassion available to quench his roaring thirst. So desiccated is his soul that, were he to stumble upon the waters of life amidst his circles beneath the stars, he would perhaps mistake them for yet another mirage and pay them no mind. How did he get here? Such things are long since lost to him, hidden behind the veil of forgetfulness which protects him from the part he played in making this mess.
By Insinq Datum2 years ago in Poets
The Eyes That Never Close
What does a voice say when it has brushed eternity? What words suffice to sum it up? Composed they sit...Silent. Resolved, they act out their narrative in the weathering blue stone that ages even the innocent. Wizened beyond their childlike forms, they weep with the rain and whistle with the wind. They who see, but do not speak. The watchers of the world.
By Abbey Ness2 years ago in Poets
the whirlwind and the wildfire. Content Warning.
he is a whirlwind - chaos incarnate - torrents and turbulence filling the air with debris that now lands in my realm, before the rainclouds form. a massive front of low pressure dragged behind his highs. but he doesn't know i am a wildfire. his winds give me oxygen to breathe, but he doesn't like the heat and his emotions rain down. stormy tears to put the inferno out. the blaze of my fury subdued. his winds have changed direction, for now. exhausted by his own friction. the earth my fire burns left to renew as it needs to, parenting inventive convenience, for the cycle must continue. but the whirlwind returns, so curious, wanting to be close, and still unaware of how he affects my wild heart of fire. so, i burn and i hiss and i glow. a climax of explosive instinct - a natural reaction, but a hazard nonetheless. and the world demands i put my fire out and block his tornadic gusts. do it or they will do it for me, before they carry on about the weather, "... what a dangerous idea for the wildfire to be so reckless with the whirlwind..."
By ⸘jason alan‽2 years ago in Poets
