Hephaestus

Sequences of thoughts.

strung by their lies,

holding each other afloat

in the sea of misdirection.

The formation of misguided,

miscalculated,

and misinterpreted words

swallowing up the last bit of your humanity.

The last part that makes you, you.

 

They stitched their mantras,

their lies,

their lifestyle

into ever crevasse they could find.

Removing and erasing all the bits that gave you freewill

a society of perfectly manipulated machines.

Festering on the addictive lies prescribed to them.

 

Gearing for war,

he preps his army of un-rebellious soldiers,

who await their cue,

the blaring horn that commences the slaughter.

 

In a world of obedience,

the soul within fights it’s own battle to survive,

before the soulless take without regret,

and kill without emotion.

 

They say it takes a village.

Yet, it takes only one to convince them all.

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IMAGE: Philip-027

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The Rebellion

There is a moment in everyone’s life where they have to make a choice. A selfish choice, but a choice nonetheless. This decision can be easy, or it can be overwhelmingly impossible to make and even comprehend. This short piece of prose was inspired by the recent climate of our world but also by my immense love for all things space-y. Yes, the “people” that are talked about in this are technically aliens. It’s also inspired by a book that I read (Alienated by Melissa Landers), but I wanted to take it to another level. Not sure of much of the back story so it’s very empty in terms of plots besides what’s said below, but I’m intrigued by the ideas this presents and the places I could go with it.

Betrayed by the Light

She walked along the midnight path,

laden with crooked stones,

and etched with drunken promises.

 

It’s under the shield of night,

where she was exposed to betrayal.

For the infuriating full moon,

dissolved the foggy cover that hid one too many secrets.

 

The spotlight shown too bright,

too revealing,

on the hidden cracks within her pristine demeanor.

Piercing lenses capturing the world she hid behind the midnight sky–

The world that was her second life,

now succumbing to lies and deceit,

through the eyes of her constant spotlight.

 

With her whole being exposed to these watchful eyes,

she crumbled, and fell.

Much like the sun did each night.

But she didn’t rise again,

she didn’t ever see the light–

her light, again.

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image: pexels

The Essay.

A college essay, in 650 words, is supposed to accurately reflect who you are and why you’re special compared to everyone around you. Within this small collection of words your whole entire being is scrunched down into a bunch of painfully produced words that by the end of it are so cemented into your brain that you lose all sense of who you even are.

Demented Wings

A lot of the stories I write, or think of, start off as a snapshot of a scene. Either one that holds some essential moment in the timeline or a completely random scene that holds no true leverage on the rest of the story. In a sense I tend to think very narrowly whenever I write up an idea for the first time. Starting with a single moment and build on that, instead of first coming up with a plot, then the consequential events that take place as a result of that plot.

This is an excerpt for a story that doesn’t exist yet, but it still carries a lot of depth to it. Much like my other works of prose, the idea came to me only seconds before I started writing. The character’s name didn’t even come to me until halfway through writing this, and I decided to keep it that way.

Imprisoned

“My demons, though quiet, are never quite silenced. Calm as they may be, they wait patiently for a reason to wake, take an overdue breath, and crawl back to my ear.”

-Sarah Boswell

The Red String

The gap widened between him and I,

Separating to a point of forgetting.

Where memories die, wilting away.

 

Drifting along the lines of fate,

Never reaching too far over,

We braved the elements.

 

As the collapse of our own walls began,

Our will to rebell grew in strength,

And the separation withered to nothingness.

 

Walking along the red lines,

Untangling the knots we built together.

Straightening out the paths to each other.

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image: Astrera