Delusia

I was tricked - The orchid arms of the velvet seedling wooed me. The gape in my arm burned evil. I gasped in pain and tumbled backwards onto the flat, sandy earth that embraced my triumphant adversary. This was an experience I was unable to foreshadow.

I lay completely submissive to this peerless landscape.  This monumental yet moistureless tree screens an array of geometric shaped foliage upon my torso. These flawless yet viperous hybrid tea roses surround me as I slumber gridlocked to the commodious apricot grass under me. A sense of plenitude overshadows my feeble perception of life and enables me to utterly feel an inner peace never felt before. I patiently wait for my kismet while grasping for some thoughts of wisdom. Perhaps the cannibalistic, seven-hundred pound mammoths would make me their supper, or the ghoulish worm-queens would pierce their aciculate fangs through my skull.

A burning sensation began to make its way up my forearm. I gazed upon my wrists for the first time since the bite, only imagining from villager’s stories their condition. My pale white skin had darkened to a deep magenta. An unbearable itch emerged under its surface like jelly-bellied hairy caterpillars wiggling under the firm leaves of salad. One after another yellow-headed boils began to break the surface of my skin. I let out a muffled cry, knowing that no one would hear, but rather yearned for the comfort returned even by an echo.

Maybe water could weaken the flow of the infection surging through my veins. I crawled over to a puddle formed by the footprint of a wooly, snarling Brakide. I began to savor the rejuvenating liquid, pouring small handfuls over my cracked lips and swollen tongue. My thirst was yet unquenched.

The dewy drops of sweat that swirled from my neck to my chest evaporated in thin air.  Through the transparent layers of skin, of what were my eyelids, I could see a white mystical hazy gaunt figure approaching me.

A fresh smell of poppy berries invaded my nostrils from the presence of this new being. I gagged. The figure stood still for a moment. Then seconds later I felt tender hands tracing my infected perimeter. Its hands caressed my collapsed rib cage and my balding skull. Its cry instantly penetrated the sky and it withdrew from me in torment. No longer did it glow white, but red, blood red. It quickly turned away, stumbled, and plunged over the nearby cliff into the crested gully below. A black cloud descends…

Gooey lime mucus and clotted blood drip from my eyes and nose. My frail arms glide down my sides and fumble over my stubby, decaying hip bones. Oh, I long for the comfort of a raindrop that voluntarily falls onto the pinnacle of my forehead and nourishes my soul. How I desire the transcendent waters which splash from the Faray River every time I glide my heels atop their surface.

Oh magical weeping willow, you that resides in the sacred, blue misty meadow, how much I miss thy firm yet compassionate hug. Oh how you have taught me lionhearted fearlessness and undismayed willingness to engage in vehement bloodsheds in order to protect our kind. You are my guiding principle, my way of life, and my hope for answers.

The dust has only just begun to form under my blistered fingertips. I feel a tumultuous collision as flashbacks bounce from my subconscious to my temples and back. What daunting void nature impelled unto me; nonetheless, one which conveys from within a profound notion of reality that does not segregate me from knowing who I am.


No trace of resentment maddens me, for I now comprehend the meaning of life. Lasting memories where moments of pleasure hung before my poisonous takeover funnel through my veins. My heart compresses nature, beautifying the reality of letting go. Feathery flower buds and cocoons bloom, and the high pitched whistle of the wind blows in and out of me, through my punctured lungs. I breathe. The paperlilies puttered over my hair and face and I smiled a half moon into the clear starry sky. I breathe.

Thoughts resurface in my remembrance - I hand a cup of chariska tea made from the sweetest forest knackelbar to a young sick Traykin. He lives. I breathe. The water ripples as I wrestle the scaly allac. I breathe.

The vulcuns tremble and erupt. Magma spurts up and outwards over the black cliffside. My blood boils and my love explodes for all that is living: the apricot grass, the velvet seedlings, the mammoths, mother willow, and the worm-queens. Let the resplendent skyline fall upon me as I accept my end with solitude and grace. At last, the universe engulfs me.