chapter III - the stars
a young, naive shepard's boy caught sight of the ladder.
deciding to break suit of his mundane routine, he went investigate.
he crossed the meadows and pastures, drawing closer to the man-made marvel
but as he approached the ladder began to deteriorate into ash,
as he quickened his pace from a brisk walk to lightening fast dash.
arriving at the foot of the ladder just as the last few feet were carried off by the crisp summer breeze.
he leaned into to inspect the ashes.
encased within the remains, he saw something shimmer - a crown.
the young shepard's boy picked up the crown and hastily made his way towards the castle's gates,
where the guards brought him to a halt.
'what business do you hold commoner?' said one guard in a cold, almost robotic voice.
'i came across a this crown amongst some cinders and ash.
if i am not mistaken it is awful similar to jewel that rest upon the head of your majesty.'
the boy presented the crown in all it's golden, glowing glory.
'that sounds terribly elaborate boy! are you sure your hands are not covered in the cold blood of regicide?'
the guards took hold of the boy and dragged him into the castle.
'princess! princess!' cried the guards.
awoken from her slumber by the unholy noise that was travelling down the hallways and into her room,
the princess trudged out of her chamber and towards the main hall.
'what is it causing so much commotion? what is all the ill noise about?'
'this boy comes baring the crown of your father!'
'and you suspect murder? foul, bloody murder?'
'well, yes princess. he claims to have found it buried within ashes and burning coal.'
'release him. i know the boy well, well enough to know he has a non-violent nature and a golden heart.
speak now boy, but do not breathe a lie.'
so the Shepard boy recreated the event that had come to him obtaining the gem.
'and my father was nowhere to be seen?'
'no princess.'
'what was the source of the ashes?'
'i saw a ladder turn to dust from afar princess.'
'a ladder...?'
the events of the previous night replayed in her head.
the confession of her desire and her father's unutterable will.
the princess feel into a deep, glooming depression. black and nothing filled the void which she perceived her life as.
with her father gone and the moon sleeping, she cried.
like water from a fountain, tears began to flow. collecting within her hands like a dam.
'affection has fallen beneath the cracks in the floorboards,
gathering in pools, watching us from below.
our heartache and mistakes are a cinematic masterpiece.
yet affection, our emotions learn nothing from these experiences.
no matter how hard it is on them and their family.
but us, looking down on our emotions is hypocritical.
for no matter no many times we falter,
this prison of consciousness keeps throwing the same underhandedness and trickery at us.
to which we blindly stagger to. it's become a home for you and i...
what is life with love?
god, divine spirit? are you listening to me?
please, i need a guiding light. i need help.'
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Saturday, January 23, 2010
chapter II - the sun
chapter II - the sun
'pluck the moon from the sky.'
the king repeated this over and over and then over again inside his head.
bouncing off the walls and echoing to the heavens.
artemis was to be stolen from apollo,
bringing the chase that was to last for eons to come, to an abrupt end.
the king sat upon his bedside, pouring the melting wax from his candle onto a piece of parchment
and with a prick of his tongue and a drop of blood,
he simply scribbled a heart, the heart of his daughter.
it was small and bleeding, you could hear the angst as the feather scratched against the scroll.
it bled, the blood trickled down and pooled on the floor.
the heart was alive and beating frantically, gasping for air to bring the warmth back to it's cold exterior.
the king gathered thousands of the finest men, from distant lands and kingdoms far away.
creating an assassination team for the moon.
capturing the moon inside a glass bottle like a dragonfly,
this was a collosal undertaking, near as large as the colossi that helped shape this earth.
the king has prepped the men and equipt them the strongest of wood and rope.
'we are to build a ladder to the heavens! and then even a bit higher!' proclaimed the king.
'we are to then cast our ropes around the silver exterior of the moon and pull it back to this world.'
'let neither the divine spirits nor unholy beast be the bane of this operation.'
so they built the ladder from the ground up, slowly but surely making their way upwards.
the builders worked and worked until all the flesh from their hands had worn away and only bone was left.
in time their hair began to fall out and all their teeth and nails had chipped away and only their skeletons remained.
'worthless! all worthless!' cried the king as he began to scale the makeshift ladder.
'your flesh was too weak for the simplest of tasks now i must collect the moon myself!'
up and up and up climbed the king, coming ever closer to the princess' desire.
as he reached the summit of his ideas, his head became light-headed and was overcome with a feeling of falling.
compressing his chest to the extent that it felt his stomach was begging for escape,
tugging at his tonsils and ripping the skin from his teeth, clawing ever so desperately towards the outside world.
his eyes, turning into his head cause a glimpse of two of the most darling figures acting as wings
and carrying him up past the moon and into the heavens.
'how can this be? the heavens cannot possibly be higher than the moon?'
when all of a sudden, the sky cracked and he was carried through the void and into nirvana.
'welcome my child. i've seen the extents you'd go to to please the ones you love and this is a true act of selflessness.'
'but all the men that perished...'
'there never was any men, it was all you. the dictatorship that ran inside your mind is all you.'
and so the king floated, forever and ever and ever again, into happiness and the catalyst for the princess' rise, and downfall.
'pluck the moon from the sky.'
the king repeated this over and over and then over again inside his head.
bouncing off the walls and echoing to the heavens.
artemis was to be stolen from apollo,
bringing the chase that was to last for eons to come, to an abrupt end.
the king sat upon his bedside, pouring the melting wax from his candle onto a piece of parchment
and with a prick of his tongue and a drop of blood,
he simply scribbled a heart, the heart of his daughter.
it was small and bleeding, you could hear the angst as the feather scratched against the scroll.
it bled, the blood trickled down and pooled on the floor.
the heart was alive and beating frantically, gasping for air to bring the warmth back to it's cold exterior.
the king gathered thousands of the finest men, from distant lands and kingdoms far away.
creating an assassination team for the moon.
capturing the moon inside a glass bottle like a dragonfly,
this was a collosal undertaking, near as large as the colossi that helped shape this earth.
the king has prepped the men and equipt them the strongest of wood and rope.
'we are to build a ladder to the heavens! and then even a bit higher!' proclaimed the king.
'we are to then cast our ropes around the silver exterior of the moon and pull it back to this world.'
'let neither the divine spirits nor unholy beast be the bane of this operation.'
so they built the ladder from the ground up, slowly but surely making their way upwards.
the builders worked and worked until all the flesh from their hands had worn away and only bone was left.
in time their hair began to fall out and all their teeth and nails had chipped away and only their skeletons remained.
'worthless! all worthless!' cried the king as he began to scale the makeshift ladder.
'your flesh was too weak for the simplest of tasks now i must collect the moon myself!'
up and up and up climbed the king, coming ever closer to the princess' desire.
as he reached the summit of his ideas, his head became light-headed and was overcome with a feeling of falling.
compressing his chest to the extent that it felt his stomach was begging for escape,
tugging at his tonsils and ripping the skin from his teeth, clawing ever so desperately towards the outside world.
his eyes, turning into his head cause a glimpse of two of the most darling figures acting as wings
and carrying him up past the moon and into the heavens.
'how can this be? the heavens cannot possibly be higher than the moon?'
when all of a sudden, the sky cracked and he was carried through the void and into nirvana.
'welcome my child. i've seen the extents you'd go to to please the ones you love and this is a true act of selflessness.'
'but all the men that perished...'
'there never was any men, it was all you. the dictatorship that ran inside your mind is all you.'
and so the king floated, forever and ever and ever again, into happiness and the catalyst for the princess' rise, and downfall.
Friday, January 22, 2010
chapter I - the moon
chapter I - the moon
atop a pretty little hill beside a pretty little village sat a not so little castle.
inside this castle, there lived the most tyrannical king one could imagine,
however, he had one weakness, his daughter, the princess.
he tended to her every whim and desire, he catered to her every need.
this being said, the princess was most unlike her father despite this treatment,
neither domineering nor ruthless but rather complaisant and sympathetic.
the princess requested for the finest wines and the tastiest foods,
the most ripened crop and the most elegant of gowns.
due to the kings arrogance and self-indulgence, he neglected majority of the townspeople's needs
and thus, the princess in her selflessness aided them.
the foods and the wines, the gowns and the crop. all were handed over to the villagers.
the townsfolk were silently waiting for the day that the princess would usurper the throne.
as the single heir to the power of the kingdom, she would be the queen that they had eagerly awaited for so long.
the princess lived out her solitary life continuing to give gifts and necessities to the people.
one day, when the princess was laying watching the stars and moon, she let out a howl.
not in pain nor agony but in disbelief.
the sky was so beautiful, she had always thought this.
since a young age she had a flare for painting. many of these pieces consisting of the night sky, in some shape or form.
the moon was always dominant, always the foremost feature.
tears began to flow so freely, that nothing in history could describe the flood,
not even shakespeare had written so fluently.
sobbing, the princess moved the wet strands of hair from eyes
and into vision came her father.
'what is wrong my dearest? what is causing you such misery?'
'nothing father, it's nothing. i'm just overcome with a feeling of melancholy.
the moon, it's so brilliant and bright. i wish just for a second i could experience it's beauty but not from afar.'
'surely darling, there must be something i can fetch?'
'no father, not unless you can pluck the moon from the sky like a blossoming bud.'
atop a pretty little hill beside a pretty little village sat a not so little castle.
inside this castle, there lived the most tyrannical king one could imagine,
however, he had one weakness, his daughter, the princess.
he tended to her every whim and desire, he catered to her every need.
this being said, the princess was most unlike her father despite this treatment,
neither domineering nor ruthless but rather complaisant and sympathetic.
the princess requested for the finest wines and the tastiest foods,
the most ripened crop and the most elegant of gowns.
due to the kings arrogance and self-indulgence, he neglected majority of the townspeople's needs
and thus, the princess in her selflessness aided them.
the foods and the wines, the gowns and the crop. all were handed over to the villagers.
the townsfolk were silently waiting for the day that the princess would usurper the throne.
as the single heir to the power of the kingdom, she would be the queen that they had eagerly awaited for so long.
the princess lived out her solitary life continuing to give gifts and necessities to the people.
one day, when the princess was laying watching the stars and moon, she let out a howl.
not in pain nor agony but in disbelief.
the sky was so beautiful, she had always thought this.
since a young age she had a flare for painting. many of these pieces consisting of the night sky, in some shape or form.
the moon was always dominant, always the foremost feature.
tears began to flow so freely, that nothing in history could describe the flood,
not even shakespeare had written so fluently.
sobbing, the princess moved the wet strands of hair from eyes
and into vision came her father.
'what is wrong my dearest? what is causing you such misery?'
'nothing father, it's nothing. i'm just overcome with a feeling of melancholy.
the moon, it's so brilliant and bright. i wish just for a second i could experience it's beauty but not from afar.'
'surely darling, there must be something i can fetch?'
'no father, not unless you can pluck the moon from the sky like a blossoming bud.'
Monday, January 4, 2010
zero hour.
12:08
it's gotten to the point where my mental anguish has crossed to my physical form.
dragging my feet up and down empty hallways in an attempt to bring on sleep.
my eyes are playing tricks on me; i'm seeing doubles and illusions.
in retaliation, my mind is crushing my windpipe between itself and my heart.
i'm short on breath, i'm losing hope. this isn't meant to hurt so much.
12:13
i tried to sleep before but i couldn't stomach the idea of sleep.
my body refused and spewed up all my angels, now only demons remain.
i feel so empty, so hollow.
my insides are tied into knots, my blood has formed so many clots.
my face is as white as chalk and i'm chocking on my shallow, breaths.
when i'd rather be choking on yours.
12:31
i'm skipping across a little pond using lily pads as stepping-stones on my way to the edge.
my feet are getting wet but i'm so use to sinking by now, it's nothing new.
catching fireflies in my hands to assist the dark and lonley path.
my jeans are ripping and tearing as heart broken demons claw at me.
my bones are frozen from the inside out. i'm vomiting ash.
no one can help me, i have to overcome this myself but by now i'm so weak
and you're not waiting for me on the other side.
what's the fucking point?
12:47
insomnia has set in. i don't think i'll sleep any time soon.
i should just give up but i feel this is worth losing sleep over.
12:59
if this were the last minute of my life, i could honestly accept it.
i'd set it up as a suicide and this would be my note.
the only difference i would make, is that i'd scribble your name on the bottom of the page
so that you knew how i truly felt.
it's gotten to the point where my mental anguish has crossed to my physical form.
dragging my feet up and down empty hallways in an attempt to bring on sleep.
my eyes are playing tricks on me; i'm seeing doubles and illusions.
in retaliation, my mind is crushing my windpipe between itself and my heart.
i'm short on breath, i'm losing hope. this isn't meant to hurt so much.
12:13
i tried to sleep before but i couldn't stomach the idea of sleep.
my body refused and spewed up all my angels, now only demons remain.
i feel so empty, so hollow.
my insides are tied into knots, my blood has formed so many clots.
my face is as white as chalk and i'm chocking on my shallow, breaths.
when i'd rather be choking on yours.
12:31
i'm skipping across a little pond using lily pads as stepping-stones on my way to the edge.
my feet are getting wet but i'm so use to sinking by now, it's nothing new.
catching fireflies in my hands to assist the dark and lonley path.
my jeans are ripping and tearing as heart broken demons claw at me.
my bones are frozen from the inside out. i'm vomiting ash.
no one can help me, i have to overcome this myself but by now i'm so weak
and you're not waiting for me on the other side.
what's the fucking point?
12:47
insomnia has set in. i don't think i'll sleep any time soon.
i should just give up but i feel this is worth losing sleep over.
12:59
if this were the last minute of my life, i could honestly accept it.
i'd set it up as a suicide and this would be my note.
the only difference i would make, is that i'd scribble your name on the bottom of the page
so that you knew how i truly felt.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
butterflies.
for too long my stomach has been a nesting ground for butterflies.
the feeling has become a soft, almost painful constant.
the skies aren't getting clearer. i still can't see my reflection in the water.
destroy the hive, flood the nest, blind the carrier.
the dead washed up onto shore, thousands upon thousands of the dead.
i've ripped off all their wings and made them into a dress for you.
among the masses, a little, obscure part of me because if i feel nothing for you, a part of me is dead.
the feeling has become a soft, almost painful constant.
the skies aren't getting clearer. i still can't see my reflection in the water.
destroy the hive, flood the nest, blind the carrier.
the dead washed up onto shore, thousands upon thousands of the dead.
i've ripped off all their wings and made them into a dress for you.
among the masses, a little, obscure part of me because if i feel nothing for you, a part of me is dead.
sunday, january 3rd, 2010.
sending letters by moonlight in little paper boats.
little birds cutting the sky with their metal wings.
searching for heaven, they're just as sick of life.
the twenty-first century was a desperate time for lovers.
the plague had re-emerged in the form of cupid's arrow.
i was a victim. i followed the darkened path
but never again.
never again will love tie a noose around my neck,
i'll carrying this dagger to defend my heart.
how can you say you 'found' me when you can't even 'find' yourself?
i refuse to follow blindly any more.
if this is where my heart is leading me, i'd rather make my own path.
cutting through mountains and swampy marsh. this time it's on my terms.
little birds cutting the sky with their metal wings.
searching for heaven, they're just as sick of life.
the twenty-first century was a desperate time for lovers.
the plague had re-emerged in the form of cupid's arrow.
i was a victim. i followed the darkened path
but never again.
never again will love tie a noose around my neck,
i'll carrying this dagger to defend my heart.
how can you say you 'found' me when you can't even 'find' yourself?
i refuse to follow blindly any more.
if this is where my heart is leading me, i'd rather make my own path.
cutting through mountains and swampy marsh. this time it's on my terms.
Friday, January 1, 2010
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