writing Corpses speak too

[Ferret Girl 2,642]

I was there and now I do so believe that I may tell, of such a tale of woe and hardship, and of rhymes galore in open space. The terrible tragedy of minds reconciling whilst their thoughts travel north to embrace the cold that the bodies should never know. I’ll begin now, if you’ll have me, to listen to what I’ll sing, for such is a song of tears which we all encompass, and harbor ill feelings for our neighbors.

 

I was there, between two or three, or perhaps the innumerable. I was there, and so were you, so I’d tell you only what you already know. You have seen no doubt through crimson eyes, so that you may not see the flowing color, drained from fleshy piles, the ground soaked from such, and your ears no doubt, covered with glowing golden honey. So I’ll say once more, and then soon begin, that we were here, that which is there, and allow ourselves to remember with no visual interference.

 

My mind was drunk, a drug had seeped deep in thought, but oh what I drug it was, one so that the imaginations run wild enough to set themselves afire in realism. That there was the beginning. And from this fire, this tormenting blaze of drugged consciousness, arose such a tremor in the mind that all creations were shown, and with tremendous force they broke the barriers. This I know, and I have seen, felt all the same and shared with you, have I not? I saw the fields that they raved upon, greedily feasting from the soil. The only nourishment of the earth, given to the hunger less demons of malcontent. I waited in silence as the mobs of anger began to stir. Then so they did, and marched to quell the insurrection of craziness. They wielded peppermint sticks and grass shields, and with mighty prowess they danced into their deserving fortunes. And not too long after this did the fall give rise to my current understanding of life. Desperate and ragged, I wandered about in the ushered dark, staggering just so, and found myself walking through broken glass and sticky red substance.

 

For yes, it was I, and I alone, acting through mind’s eye to do the biddings of secret songs. I cut the throats of the innocent only to be showered in the praise of angels, the hypocrisy running rampant. In anger, and just cause did I scream to the heavens, in vile tongues, did I so, and now I know, that in all honesty and hardship, there is no truth, only continued debt of sins and fire. And the drug was brought so into creation. There it sunk into the tremors, and filled the gapes and cracks.

 

Forgive me… was it I who wore the crimson eyes?