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Rated: 18+ · Prose · Dark · #1603470
We are burned, scolded - whistling mutated melodies.
Warning: Not for everyone.


The world is nothing.
We are all left here to die,
walk each lightless day, wishing... pray!

Call it whatever you need to to stay happy.
But know the days are coming when empty is all we will be.
He hears you, oh yes! He does.
What we endure is his wish.
His love.
Guidance muffled -
An unknown language that cannot be learned.

Why do you think the world rocks so?
All below sick, twisted, selfish, like him.
Could anyone be different, NO!
We are made in his image.
We stumble with each step we take.
Drunk, distorted in all we know, perhaps believe.

Cover your ears, you cannot silence my voice.
Humbled in tarnished perceptions of malice and pain.
Carry me, carry me!
I am helpless, you are too, we all are.
Fiery rocks are thrown from above.
We are burned, scolded - whistling mutated melodies.
Melodies that cannot soothe that most demonic angels above.

I scream, shriek, till my lungs bleed.
Damned, always awake.
Will I ever sleep? Know my last breath?
In a world the perfect image of what he wanted.
Such pleasure cannot be given.
We live on in his fancy with a wilting hope
that perhaps something more waits.

This is it.
I scream at the unjust.
I ask why?
But at last the world is dead.
We just haven't come to know we died.

Go muse! *Bigsmile*'s and Thank you Captaintaya for hearing those screams. *Smirk*

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