Decisions #writephoto

Thursday photo prompt

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We are at the crossroad, there is no way back, we have to chose: darkness, or greed, or the Truth. If we chose the Truth we will have to fight. If we chose darkness we will be, finally, hunted down like rats – and we’ll deserve it. If we chose greed, we will be billions. And we will die, miserable putrefying ruins, in the middle of our riches.

So, Truth it will be. Then, along this most arduous of all paths, we will have to fight, against darkness, and against greed. The Archangel will guide us. For this fight began long ago.

But for Truth to triumph, over darkness and greed, we will have to sacrifice ourselves, like Him.

Dark #writephoto

Dark

dark-hills

 

Perhaps it was how it had to be:

The landscape reflected his soul, deep in sorrow,

For mourning was now the only feeling left…

Yet, through the clouds,

A sun ray could be seen,

Reflected in the calm water of the lake.

He thought how deep that water was,

Time would tell if he would find again

The warmth of a happy summer.

Construct #DailyPost #Katatonia

As I looked up today’s prompt…

katatonia-day-and-then-the-shadesingle

… I was listening to one of my favourite dark albums, my beloved Katatonia‘s “Night is The New Day“, and, unfathomably, found the lyrics of “day and then the shade” entirely appropriate…

i will rise

to dreams of freedom

and avow

to return the treason that came under your reign

the day and then the shade

i have slept

inside the season that froze within my grasp

all my fears come into view

there must be an end soon

when every waking hour

is part of the lie

i will rise

over glass cathedrals

and let go

with my eyes resting upon the nearing dark

the day and then the shade

i have slept

within the reason that kept me so remote

make a brand new vow

in the heat of the evening

the darkness swarms

i was nothing, ever

but red like the sun

dying down over the freeway

is the brand new sky

over the mountain ridge”

“day and then the shade”: music and lyrics by Jonas Renkse

#DailyPrompt: 180 Degrees

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “180 Degrees.”

180 DegreesHer calm eyes took the whole group for what it was: a bunch of murderous thugs. She observed the hate, the lust, the most vile desires on their ugly faces: she had plenty of time to reflect, they did not, but they were deluded. What could a thin elven woman do against all of them?

Behind them, high on the cliff, her companion adjusted the lens of her rifle, it was much as they had so many times trained for, assured, free from haste… and from hate.

The first one to make a move was a tall, massive brute, and he came close to touching her: the bullet crossed his skull back to front, and he fell, surprised, silent, head first in the dust. The shot had been silent too, so the others were petrified.

So, one by one, they killed them, one at a time, by the bullet or by the sword. The last one alive fell to his knees, crawling, abject fear painted on the brute’s face.

Her companion waited: it was her decision, to kill or not. She looked down at her feet: then slowly, her arm raised, thumb up, she made the immemorial sign of the antique circus.

This one would tell the others: time was now up.

For Esther, who wrote: “Patriarchy made Woman stranger to this world, An eternal child. Women are no longer slaves, And the amazons strike back.”

#FiveSentenceFiction: Darkness

Antonioni short film “Superstizione”The low growl of the city, and this feeble light that does not mean dawn: sleep has evaded me.

For I think of you: the multitude, you, who used to count for nothing, but now you do, and they know it.

The future belongs to you, a future full of light, full of hope.

The darkness, still to be defeated, grows weaker, and its cruelty more vicious, but you have much experience of that.

And so morning will come, chasing away the clouds, and the demons.

#FiveSentenceFiction: Night

 The street is deserted: you said you would be here, in front of the old gate, but there’s no one.

Blind windows look down at me in the deepening obscurity of the dying day: I recall the laughter, the chatter of young voices after school, I recall your half open lips, ready for the kiss, the bubble of time surrounding us.

It was then, now is darkness, and I know time lost is gone: those young voices muted in the silence of eternity.

Yet I stand still, and hope, memories of you submerging my soul, slowly drowning in the shimmering silhouette that has appeared, just there, at the edge of this tormented mind.

There you are, at last, haunting beauty of my lost love, shrouded in tears, mistress of the night.