Cerulean Horrors

We will join hands and sing in choruses that are as silvery as the midnight moon. We'll whisper feathery shadows into the frost of hazy mornings and hide in the hope that flames won't ignite the world, that the sky won't fall down in a chunky block of milky cerulean. But of course, fate holds a knife and is ready to behead us in our once peaceful sleep and the nightmares will chase us through the hours while we toss and turn, living the darkest horrors, alive but barely breathing. Is this it? Is this the part where our souls are sucked up from our bodies, when we are taken hostage into superficial reality, beautiful on the inside but nefarious on the inside? I was being forced to walk on scorching fire to the other side, but we must always face the ugly truths; my dear, cherished, ember, I got lost on the coals.

{e.d.}

Reviews

[Mari K]

Wow the imagery in this is awesome. Your word choice is perfect. Great write!

[Leo Sav]

I really like the fire and darkness in this piece. Facing truths about the world and about ourselves. The process of walking through the fire, being brave enough to do it.

[Ekta]

Thank you so much! :)