Tuesday, October 7, 2008

The Dreaming


I float, as I have drifted and dwelt in the amorphous places between the cracks of the human world. The Shadowlands. My birthright dark and dim. Filled with sensual pleasures, swirling purple and suptuous velvet sanguinous hue envelope me in warm pleasure.

You were there once. You were there, my brother. Knew everything. Was a part of everything.
I guess it is no more. The computer, so bright and solid. Renders imagination obsolete.

The Shadowlands. They forbid the sanctuary of forgetting. I feel that pain, stabs me everyday.

The Shadowlands talons wide and grasping, yellow eyes burning. Hunger. Calling you home. Hissing. Whispering.

I have no home, only the comforting familiarity of an ancient agony. A shattered trust. A meloncholic romance. The final threads of life that define me. They are the Shadowlands.

The Shadowlands are my essence. My only home. The only constant. The depression will come and save you when everyone has forsaken you for dead.

*********

The skeletal face framed by leonine mane as swarthy as the deepest midnight flashes with its own electricity. Eyes of fire infected with vitality. Making cracks in the Shadowland so the light can come in. 'Come to my home.' He purrs. His paw has grip like a tyre tread. 'We are going home.' His pinions lift and billow, shields from an indifferent universe. 'Let me remind you of the older dream you already knew.....'


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