Just an attempt to write a short chaotic text to reflect emotion, and hopefully bring fourth an emotional response in the reader.


Lonely

Blood and music tingled through his brain, like gentle moonlight showing the way, from his grave he slowly rose again. Before him, dressed in white, a tall man chanting an ancient spell. "Who are ye" he whispered, but no sound came out, only a moan. Trapped, trapped, imprisoned in a fleshy suit. A demon, a spirit, a vengeful soul, he could not control, moaning further, reaching, white robe flowing, flying, falling. Brother, Brother! Why? This spirit, this demon! Why? Flying, fearing, fleeing, finally seeing. Blood and music, moonlit night, spirit gone, moonlight shines.

Fearing, screaming, weeping, finally free, but deeply grieving. Why Brother, why? Standing there screaming, "why raise me? The demon! Rotten and forgotten. Why raise me? Why die? Brother, oh Brother I'm sorry, so sorry" Raging turning grieving, think of naught but leaving. Swim the sea and try to drown, hangs from trees but no air is needed, running, screaming, grieving "Let me die Brother, let me die, I wish not life when thou art gone!"

Sadly, sadly stopping, crying, feeling. Lonely, lonely, weeping. Moonlight gently beaming. Sits down, looks out, world shrinks, time is fleeting. Mountain's peak, harsh and cold, sitting, weeping. Moonlight shines, fades, shines. Weeping, rotting, sitting, fleeting. Fading, flowing, weeping, gentle winds are stirring, moonlight shines, gently healing, wind wipes, cleans him. Days, weeks, months, years. Peaceful. Finally there sits naught but dust, finally sleeping, no more weeping. Alone. Alone! Alone? No more, no more! He is resting, sleeping, healing. Blood and Song still singing, but spirit's gone, no longer alone, healing.




Short story by Magnus Nathaniel Enlien Hansen
Read 640 times
Written on 2014-01-15 at 16:18

Tags Zombie  Morbid  Lonely 

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