segunda-feira, 24 de agosto de 2009

The Rats

The blinding flashes, a girl dances with a red dress whose curves catapult raindrops like scalpels at the eyes of all admirers. With war paint that goes over and under the corneas and strangles a quick fix at a view of beauty and obsession, strange events that will forever stain the already distorted minds of all scavangers who came to this place for a perverse smile and a thud. He is so nervous that the sweat drips from all the pores and the rage that will fill him opens a door into a world he never knew before. Where the ravens hunt and stab their beaks at the half alive skin of a man who's crossed the most vast of deserts to be here, but never made it.

"I will take you with me" he whispers softly into her ear, a soundwave that cuts open the sewn eyes and leaves them wide with unspeakable fear, if only she had the courage to summon up a "run" those that one day stood there wouldn't be scattered across the wet concrete of that big city street. And perhaps tonight there would be no bloody pieces for the rats in the sewer to feast on. He cannot take the mistake to the grave if there was no mistake, he was sure of this as something he wanted and cannot and will not be blamed for it. The hell he saw after closing his eyes this afternoon before the meat show was of such an impact on his once pure soul that he could not handle such a truth.

And after the spectacle he rose from the debris and brushed his shoulders that now felt the ache of a love now lost. Raising his head he saw lined before him all of the underworlds angels standing still as statues with heavy metal slabs chained to their faces, the strange comfort that brought him the unknown words of his lifes new narrator. He took a deep breath slightly overtaken by fear and walked towards the malicious auras, leaning slightly to the right due to what felt like a broken rib he managed to pick the third of the apparently evil minions that stood paciently before him as if he could take all the time in the world. Standing face to face with him, or perhaps her, the winged torture hugged him with a force unlike any other he felt in his life.

And now the blood that pours will trickle down the paths and find its way into the hearts.

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