WHISPERS
IN THE VOID
It
is night time and she starts to hear it again.
The
same loud noise, the noise of silence, the noise of warning, disaster
at it again. Someone or something is screaming outside the cabinet.
It's
3 O' clock in the morning and this happens every day. The same
fear, the same terror, the same kind of shiver that cracks your spine
open and exposes your weaknesses to the outside world.
The
lamp suddenly goes on at the command of her finger, the finger that
gives way and will to what her mind desires.
She
has this driving force telling her to go down the stairs...
Whispers;
"go outside, go outside, check out the truths of the unseen."
Her
mind lays soft and calm in her bed but her body is standing restless,
she is wavering in distraught with her pretty bruised knees hoarded
in the grass.
She
has this spade that kills life and brings back to earth things that
died long ago.
Resurrection?
Well, not that of life but the life that died away a long time ago,
just resurfacing to the eyes of those who forgot them.
She
is so confused
"Why
is my body here? Why am I not waking up from this bad dream?"
She
starts to panic and the hunger of being saved transports itself
knowing that, just like every other day, nobody can save her.
Her
mind can feel the comfort warmth of her bed upstairs but her body is
now holding something cold, something that could be dangerous....oh
yes, "I know what it is" she slurrily mumbles the words to
herself.
A
spade for the earth that has not been unearthed. It has been
abandoned and all it does is rust through the desires of Mother
Nature.
Though
the spade seems to go harsh down the ground, as she starts to dig,
"what is she digging for" no one knows, but her hands won't
stop ripping off the abandoned earth covered in beautiful weed and
grass that seem to quench with thirst. Every minute it lacks water,
the colour of life seems to fade away, from the happy GREEN of life,
to having each letter disappear because the earth cannot sing as
happy anymore. It withers in the harsh torment of life.
She
continues to dig, as her palms bleed sadness and helplessness. She
tries to let go but he spade aggressively strangles itself around her
fingers, almost as if they were destined to live as one. She bleeds
blood, sweat and tears. Her body devoured by the nightmare. A thread
of one repeated nightmare looping its horrors around her life. A life
with no awakening.
Lusho
23.09.2020
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