Whispers.

Where no soul knows another,

mustered are the alike and the even.

prevail the similarities and the many things shared

over a charming face, presence or demeanor.

secrets told in shouted whispers, 

to those who claim knowledge of the common feelings.

where misunderstanding is no threat,

for anything said is buried deep, and left to rest.

If your horns are higher than most, 

more red and frightening than most,

hide behind a blue curtain

and no one can ever know of your colour, no one can ever be certain.

If your halo is brighter than most, 

your wings whiter than most,

look for once at your reflection, 

bare the horns, your true complexion,

for earth is no place for perfection.

expose the menacing horns,

even roses are wrapped in thorns.

Where no soul knows another,

a meeting was destined by an unnamed evil

for those who worship all the unholy.

words needed neither retrieval,

nor the dreaded empty apologies.

those stranded on islands far from near

shared messages in bottles back and forth

the waves of tuneful melody hit one island’s shore,

then receded bearing more secrets in their folds.

the waves in delightful harmony went on and on,

flowing as never before.

but an end was destined just like a meeting was,

for nothing ever lasts for those stranded on shores.

Reviews

[ANTO]

Dark and foreboding. Nothing (and no one) on the Internet is as it/they seem. This seems to be a piece that has pain and words of warning throughout it. It read to me like those signs that often appear in horror films that say 'Turn Back before its too late' - specifically about online "relationships". The 'modern 'message in a bottle' - the PM or the email.
Well penned Luna-tic

[Luna-tic]

Thank you, That's exactly what I meant by this. It was definitely inspired by the fact that no one on the internet is as they seem or rather as they post.

[Phillip Francis]

Thank you for sharing. I really enjoyed this piece.

[Luna-tic]

You're very welcome, I'm glad you enjoyed it.