lizsumz
They follow his blood, speaking not, but the wisdom of his tongue. The blasphemy burns through the iron casket, speaking with words so vile, they burn. Flesh burns everywhere, the scent encases the earth.
The idea of slowly being lost in a world. Each step, marks it's own journey on the long forgotten map. Eventually dwindling away from reality. Eyes wide, unable to absorb the rush of emotions in one breath. Then you see it, the sign stapled to the tree, leaving you stuck in the deep weave of the forest. Escape is only of imagination.
His eyes were set on the console. The next person approaching the platform had a narrow build, dressed in limp rags. The frail body began to tremble as it neared it's fatal end. The game was over.
Lost in a world, filled with the fatal gases of suffocation. The warm, yet attractive grasp ensnares it's victims, only then revealing its smothering nature. The harsh climate of reality lingers in the backs of it's patient's minds, slowly creeping forward to the decent in the ground. 6 feet under.
To manifest is a lost talent of value. One, which with childhood was left behind. Our friends made of nothing, but of imagination are lost in a world of neglect and our creativity escaping the grasps of humanity.