THE MOB AT ATROPON (a fortnight hence)
There is glistening light as dawn emerges, o'er snowy fields when the mob converges, on a single fellow yet fast asleep, because some dreams are worth everything to keep...
Chorus conjecture and muted in space, would that once truth were told straight unto one's face, the journey is everything rare hearts undertake, but those lacking faith deem the reach a mistake...
So cold to feel truth out in the expanse, so cold the compulsion and ne'er take the chance, to be someone rare, despite the sickness about, to personify trust, whilst transcending all doubt...
Sweet Sullen had never adhered to the line, sick thoughts of dross and all that which maligns, so he knew from his modest, ill-defined start, that he would be scorned for living a life based on heart...
Blazoned on fast closed eyes, the dream, the truth, and the vast cirrus skies, promises are each new day, they are the purpose and the way, we clamber forth unto this life, despite the dross and endless strife...
What reason might he have felt just then, to depart the dream state in which he had been? Why rush once more unto the vacant trite, the antithesis of dreaming's delight?
Sullen neither flinched nor stirred, until the space before his eyes then whirred, for fingers waving back and forth, as prying hands at dreaming doors...
As if in a haze then dragged and led, beaten at limbs and 'round the head, they took that dreamy Sullen one, back whence with spite they all had come...
And shackle-bound, thrown o'er back of beast, the leads soft led by the silent least, a mob is naught but fervour forced, to alter peaceful living's course...
Sullen shifted there and felt such pain, the broken bones and gaping veins, not yet, he thought despite the winds, not yet succumb to mad throng's din...
In sky blue eyes the story flutters, succession and the mythos uttered, the things we do for love and friends, defying allthe hollow trends, somehow it seems beyond skyway's door, Sullen has found what he was looking for...
The truth that haunts all mortal days, compels our friends to leave, not stay, to seek it out deep in its heart, to somehow tear that truth apart...
Procession moves through central squares, tangential killers here and there, four points at least from which to see, what went before and what will be...
But stealthily fastened to a shade, permitting neither shift nor sway, Keeper too beheld the morbid column, and in his heart became so solemn...
The very point of having fled the fold, forsaking all he'd ever wish to hold, was to prevent the truth that comes undone, as the thread that was by Atropos spun...
Unto the heart, unto the seat, he'd hastened but per chance to greet, destiny before it found them all, and hoarded them to pale and deathly halls...
Keeper's ravens circled so high over head, they showed him a glimpse of transcendence instead, solutions are waiting for those who stand firm, against circumstance they boldly come to terms...
Submission is there for the faded and weak, the ravens see all in the heart that we seek, thus Keeper lamented that Sullen boy's plight, whilst considering a plan for a way to take flight!
From shade unto sun is the counter to blight, no more hiding from fate he would burst into light, but for niggling pretension of far grander plans, he froze for a spell, that most curious man!
He knew time was short, that his friend needed help, he flexed and he bent and he bellowed a loud yelp!
He wriggled his toes and stretched his leg a bit, and quite absently secreted a lean coil of shit...
Emerging from darkness, swerving unto the light, hidden neatly 'neath robes and so far out of sight, his eyes rolled way back far into head, that coil of shit foretold great things ahead...
Softly and warmly dripped down along leg, unto foot and unto that which anyone begs, just there a way out, or way in it would seem, unto cistern and sewage trails forth he shall stream...
The mob took turns beating Sullen about the head and heart, if they could, they would tear his soul so far apart, cacophonous cries extolling all human acts, but they didn't know why, no one there had the facts...
As to why it was amid the din and refrain, that it was unto Atropon that bold Sullen boy came, he'd gone after his friend to dissuade him from ends, only now to surmise what this brutal life sends...
TWIN SUNS (in story’s present tense)
Twin suns emerged at next days’ dawn, two orbs ‘twixt which a line is drawn, Sullen belched, pinched out a fart, and stretched his limbs, then gauged the space dividing suns from him…
Soon Toad emerged from blanket folds, and wailed complaint at morning’s cold, the others soon came crawling out, from here and there and all about…
At scratchy eyes and sandy tongues, daily routine at ladder’s wrung, then peered through panes affording sky, define this day how to defy…
The waning hours that mark these lives, no matter altitudes to which we strive, becoming more for want of less, as injuries hurt, they also bless…
So Sullen sighed and then exclaimed, “We shall not let things stay the same!” He rose and slid and sprung, and whilst eyeing those twin suns he sung!
“The center point between these orbs, that is where we’ll find the door, to which our friend has surely gone, I see it clearly as the dawn!”
Stranger asked as if still lost in dream, “Are you sure we’ll ever find the seam, ‘twixt darkness and rare beaming, what is real and what’s e’er seeming?”
Ariel took his hand and helped him stand, “We are all pilgrims from a foreign land, exiled at birth from paradise, and now beholden to temporal device, nothing we wish fervently, is ever far from you or me, so let us not a moment waste, our friend’s alone, we must make haste!”
As the ladies prepared and deftly shuffled, the men muttered in tones e’er manly muffled, “So, we’re going there?” Toad asked, pointing to a random place on air…
“This is the best that we can do,” Sullen said. “I awoke this morn as blue as you, for having let our friend depart, from fairest corridors of heart, but if time wanes and Keeper knows this too, we must encounter him at someplace true…”
“And that’s… there?” asked Toad somewhat fretfully.
“Yes,” replied that Sullen one all too regretfully.
“I know that you are too long separated, from those you love, who’ve so long waited, patiently as reeds in streams, for the one who truly means… so much unto their lives. Time slips and is regained when rare altitudes of love are at last attained. This fellowship is but a bridge I say to you, and what is left is ours to do… traverse or not, it’s up to us, to live with hope, to build our trust, only in this way shall we find him… I assure you, only thus.”
Toad scratched at his little chin, within his head a little din, a celebration formed in thought, of life with family textured… fraught…
“It’s true that I am too long amiss, too long since I’ve offered tender kiss, to wife and kids long waiting cold, it’s thoughts of them to which I hold, as I fight with friends to render grace, across this tired mortal space…
I shall indeed away once more, with friends unto the skyway’s door, that we might have some say in fate, and shine a light that permeates…”
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