Journeyman
Posted By: Mark25<mark_price@hotmail.co.uk>
Date: 31 August 2006, 6:55 pm
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I dream of purple monsters with always one eye open; directed towards the skies.
Careful to be cautious, save I be without sight for very much longer.
Beasts of burden seeking solace in the death throes of their prey.
Tis not for food, they do not feast upon their victims, tis for fierce play, for fun, for kudos.
A chance to compete in the ever decreasing circles of glory that is their mentality.
Comparisons abound.
Weaving and slithering across the land, the foul creature flings its excrement.
Inside beats its laughing heart, the scourge that gives life to soulless instinct.
Taste the sting of a ninety millimetre shell, beast: see the heart petrified in fear.
It beats fast against the chest in an effort to escape, it laughs no more.
You shall see no donor come to your aid.
Child of Wraith, brethren to Banshee; the darting kin makes quick on its kills.
Apparition to victims of its fright, dawning reality to the non-believer.
Tighten up my haste and take the ghostly steed by its horns, enemy scatter, enemy fall.
Fear on the other foot, wide eyes and gaping mandibles; dawning reality indeed.
Take the lift one final time: scour the dead, weapons won't help them.
Prayers may see their souls safely over, bullets stop their bodies from getting back up.
A downed mothership surrounded by circling crows, a barren corpse sheltering unnatural life.
I see the ravages of parasites and scavengers, one and all.
The cage is overrun. The lunatics have the asylum.
Awaiting pick up I hear the last songbird weep a final cry:
"I can't hold her! I can't hold her!"
No time to grieve, nor lament fallen friends, lest there be no-one to remember their sacrifice.
No looking back without thinking forward.
Requiem, pricked by fervoured conscience that whispers vehemently untold.
Love them, let them go, toast them knowingly if I live to hear my bluebird sing.
Hark at the seas of serenity.
"Just dust and echoes..."
...and I.
Breathe.
Thinking forward.
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