You see, after all it is coming, as you said it would. All we have to do now is wait. The land is dry. We will wait for the rain, we will wait for more.
Then the deluge will come, as you said, once darkness has arrived.
As you said.
Nights of white satin
You see, after all it is coming, as you said it would. All we have to do now is wait. The land is dry. We will wait for the rain, we will wait for more.
Then the deluge will come, as you said, once darkness has arrived.
As you said.
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.
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.
In the dark corridor she could not see the enemy, only hear her breath: she would have to translate the faint sounds, guess at her position, the distance from her arm, the wrist that held the dagger. Her own move would decide, life or death, victory or defeat.
Image: Dark Corridor
As I looked up today’s prompt…
… 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
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “180 Degrees.”
Her 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.”
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.
You receive a gift that is bittersweet and makes you nostalgic. What is it?
The City you knew
The love you lost
The love you found
Before darkness fell…
Photo: Bouquinistes, ©Joseph Jeiter, 1930
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.
Let Us Attend!
~ Mehr als nur ein Literaturblog ~
KULTUR - POLITIK - RELIGION - AKTUELLES - AUFKLÄRUNG über Esoterik / Charismatik / Falschmystik
La peinture sans prise de tête
Singing the praises of things that slip through the cultural cracks
Oloriel's Truth
A dose of fetish. Good friends. An incomparable muse.
Where I spill my ideas on a new world of magic.
New visions on museums, community engagement, art, and science in the public interest
We're all on a road to somewhere.
weekly wordles
The independent she who loves life
To Travel is to Live
Uncensored updates on world events, economics, the environment and medicine
Spiritual Moments in the Human Experience
Qui all'ombra si sta bene (A. Camus, Opere, p. 1131)
Att vara annorlunda/att inte passa in i samhällets ramar
Dissecting the best crime drama on television and radio from around the world
This Site is here to See GOD the FATHER's will and how Satan's children (children of the lie) are trying to destroy this fleshly and spiritual world thru Chaos.
Current News - Why it Matters, How to Pray
V.2.0 Rebooted
Menschen. Der Alltag. Das Leben. Die Welt. Sachen gibt's...
Words & Pictures Inspired by Story of O
Écriture - inspiration - allant!
KulturGenuss, Bücherlust und Lebensfreude
Myriad memories frozen in time
And so it goes...
Brian's Bonsai Blog
Images by Bren & Ash Ryan
a escrita e a arte da vida
“To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.”
Mis pequeños universos
ἀνάπαυσις
Life in Copenhagen, Denmark, after moving during Covid-19.
Politik, Literatur, Musik, Fußball
Solange Foix
Poesía, viajes y fotografías. Poetry, travel and photographs
one at a time
The Musings of a Writer / Freelance Editor in Training