They Sit and Watch

I've seen them working. I've watched as their seemingly innocent eyes twitch.

Like daggers piercing sand, or water plopping through air, they slice and fly through minds.

They leave no trace of past, it is only in present that you can catch them working.

Levers pulled and strings tied, they revel in their work, as people laugh and cry, smile and fume, live and die.

Blankness, scarred onto their faces with  thickened thorns curling tightly onto the charred remains of their soul.

I watch them as they sit and watch their work unfold.

I hate them, as they smirk lightly as their plans come into fruition.

I break them, as they realize what I am.

I am sand.. and air..

I am where the future holds the past.

I am the twitch of inspiration.

The cause for death, and the reason for life.

They sit and watch, as I break them.

They sit and twitch.

Twitch.

Twitch.



I stand.