I found his body too late. On a summer’s night the blood was swallowed by a void of our own creation.
He said inanimately,
“I am blood,” his eyes were empty, “You are one blissful life I can’t fight,” The void spun inward, “I killed you but couldn't tempt your soul.” The fire left only ashes. The boy’s body was sucked into the void. He looked at me in tears and said,
“Carve my fate.”
In this paradoxical world, I remember a momentary sparkle in the void. A feather had fallen down from it.
He’s left on the side of the scorched land.
I see the blood-stained knife, I don’t know why, I don’t know.
He’s been crying long before he was dying.
I hear the sounds in the cemetery. The owl was uh humming. Why did he have to? The words come to me like they always did in that field of roses. I’m pulled down and all around the meadow. The water returns to put out the fire. I’m underneath the steeples of land there. I travel the highlands. The owl revealed what he saw. I couldn’t understand when he said,
“I don’t love you, I searched in the tide and I’ve shown it to you,” The owl perched on the remnants. “It’s been all around you.”
I watched as the lightning shattered the ice into fragments. My memory blurred.
“Where am I?” I said in an instant, “This place is familiar.”
“You will find me on this island,” the owl fluttered in the silent breeze. “I float around you and I’ll fall down too.” The breeze became heavy.
“I believe in you,” He said. The ground rumbled. It then shattered like glass. I fell through the sadness. The words echoed once more,
“Carve my fate.”
07-May-2018 06:50:38
- Last edited on
07-May-2018 06:52:20
by
Lit Lullaby