Narration Four

Through the thunders crash I closed my eyes with a heavy heart and grasped a fading dream... sulking in drowning solitude, expressionless, and longing to scream. Faced with a road of awful truth, an antique love colliding with a modern hate... where life removed her delicate gown, as her veil fell spiraling to the ground... her face of painful death, which framed the flickering eyes of a liar... but, my hope grew stronger, the dream consuming, a world forgiven, in endless blazing fire...

My breath drew slowly, the burdened spirit sighed. We gazed upon death, and swore allegiance to those who had died. Their faces sad and brave, I envisioned them in the angry sky... the lightning flashed and filled their eyes... A wasted world unfolding, like a corpse rising from its grave... where fate exists in bleak immensity, and even those born early, are yet a lifetime too late...

Destitute, I stared deeply into the empty eyes of my destiny... into its obsidian grin, of chaos, where rested the cradle of life, nestled securely in the deep folds of non-existence. Baptized by an inescapable fate, a covenant of sorrow where hope is fleeting, and gone are the treasures of tomorrow... The sparkling halls of youth, once a glittering gold, now faded and vacant of possibilities, filled with the painful memories of untimely age. There was found a bitter truth, staring upward like an innocent child being caught in a murderous act. Innocence spellbound with untimely rage... There were grandiose lies, like the ones a mother tells her child in the midst of a fierce storm, her unfounded assurances of safety, her deceiving soft lips in the shadows uttering her love eternal...

And as I gazed out the cloudy window panes my eyes fell to the muddy world below, I began to wonder if there could be a god overlooking this burdened world... I beheld a vision of suffering and solitude, of war and death, great hate and pain, in a place entirely stricken with its awful existence, its carefully calculated fate. They hurried through the inky blackness of a never-ending night, hoping, praying, to awake from this horrible dream... And as the rain pounded upon the roof above, at once the answer came to me in a horrible, desperate flood...

A god, yes, yes indeed there was.


Poetry