Lying in the darkness,
rests two pigeons.
They do not see.
They do not hear.
They do not speak.
They only look at the figures,
Dancing in the darkness.
A spectacle of tapping echoes the room,
But the pigeons do not hear it.
They are not deaf,
But they force themselves to be.
They quack at the madness,
Like no other deaf, immobile, anosmia-filled birds,
But they do not know they are quacking,
As if the brain is a faucet,
Only letting water out, but never any water in,
because of some unseen force.
The darkness travels,
until the sun crawls across the edge of the world,
the pigeons fly toward the escaping darkness,
The dancing figures vanish,
Nowhere to be seen;
They are now at the other side of the world,
Until the pigeons come again...
A compelling story of ignorance and suffering. Of betrayal and sacrifice. Of escape and reestablishing. Of an endless cycle forever to doom humanity.