Cataclysm

Or heartache, if you rather.

Crack.

 

Silence after the requiem.

Music with no tune.

 

Such places, such of this

Such that we've become.

 

Only the vacuous intent

Of logic less defined

 

Remitted, removed

Forgotten.

The last step to a lonely door.

 

And in such places

Such cages of our minds

 

In such retreats

These places.  This sanctuary.

Hold naught but our destiny.

 

And in this

This most devine prank.

 

In our sanctuary.

We are forced to be alone.

 

No hands.

No heart.

No feelings.

 

Just this tormented logic lie.

And the prison of our mind.

 

Oh yes.

Devine prank.

 

My sancutary would hold you.

Close to me.

Forever.

 

But Gods

And demons

And the errand of fools

 

We are tormented to be alone.

At this,

The end to what we've come.

 

The Cataclysm.

 

God's lonely gift of solitude.

Author's Note

Wow. I'm getting really mobid of late. I need to read something peppy.

Reviews

[PhoeniX]

wow... of course i didnt know that you were writing about solitude until the end. such a lonely place solitude is. i sometimes find myself there.... alone with nothing but my heart beating