A small note attached to the small toe of the not yet dead woman It read of sorrow and peace as she lay there still breathing To why was she spread upon the iron table with eyes the color of coins Displayed, surrounded by mirrors and windows ***** and unbreakable Not a whimper slipped from her mouth as the small knife slit into her Tearing the silk gown with precision of an artist, the butcher masqueraded itself as husband Emerald eyes shed no tears, reflexes halt to an end, an acceptance was reached In her hands held a relic, one of the past and future. The piece was a watch Ticking, counting down each second of breath. Belief in release the ******* death Feeling of pleasure with each cut, the teasing texture of blood cascading downwards How tantalizingly horrific the scene of sacrifice; a modern day alter Rested upon rusted roses and sweet thorns the alive child laid Silence for she has given voice to the goddess and the body to the God
The way the surface of the water is frozen calling for you to break its perfect state. Crystal slate easily fractured with the slightest touch. Slowly ripples of different sizes make their way across the liquid diamond ending the tranquility it had.
Life's temporary stillness can be compared to that of a pool at midnight.
This is a cry of a person dissatisfied the faint feeling of a blank stare stating:
Here I look upon the world, to which I am dreadfully attached I regret to love it so much as I cling on harshly, gaping; it is full of distaste and resentment. I tried to see everything in it, I have lived and saw life without grace and sin devours envy controls hate and men die holding their pride and selfishness corrupted the soul.
It is without a doubt that I - who swore to be free of the earth withheld of freedom and deemed memory a clean slate again.