By Teric Darken (Broken/Desert/Voices)
<><+><>
My lips: cracked and dry like the arid sky above me. The sound: in sense-a-round, without a single word that loved me. Here I sat: high on a hill, taking in the sand below me. That sky: so high and dry, like the freezing cold that snowed me.
“Are you hungry?” said the voices of a million chorused Legion.
“Without a doubt!” I gave a shout through this famished, damning season.
“Then take a look at what you see – there’s more than meets the eye.”
My veins coursed through a thousand roads, and the eye of the needle began to cry. It all seemed so hysterical: one prick caused so much pain.
“Ah, but then again,” ol’ Legion said, “there is the sweet refrain. Come, drink the acid rain.”
I drank until I had my fill; I felt the prickly flash.
“Don’t worry, child,” my friend remarked, “for every car won’t crash. Look out toward all you find below… Now speak of what you see.”
“I see the sand of people swimming in the desert’s sea.”
“And now that you have had your fill, all that you see is yours: the countless corporations and the mercenaries’ wars.”
“I want it all! I want it now for now I know I’m king!” The needle’s eye had caught my ear apart from its first sting.
“Then fly above all that you see within the rush and flow!”
I took the plunge and soared until I hit the earth below.
<><+><>
Crash!
The impact of my body crumpled the metal atop the Mercedes E-Class.
The commuter reared back in horror. “Sonuva… Man, would you take a look at that guy!”
The three-piece-suit holding the Starbucks cup peered about the twisted carnage and shattered glass. “Damn! What a crying shame! What a waste – and it was such a nice car.”
<><+><>
Immobile, I lay broken: just another broken statistic atop a broken car, amidst a broken world.
“Come, follow me.”
I heard. I heard with distinct clarity. It was a miracle! Ha-ha! I was nothing short of a miracle; my fix hadn’t failed me! I recognized the voice of my only friend, Legion – the figure boasting a million voices.
I picked myself up, brushed myself off, gave the commuters the middle finger then followed my friend into the heart of the suburbs. We wandered into a discreet alleyway and began trekking down the dark stone steps. While mimicking Legion’s footsteps through the underworld’s shadows, I thought I witnessed his being transform.
"It’s simply the trip we’re taking; my mind is playing tricks on me within the city’s underbelly."
Through the heavy thumping, my heart found its resolve until, suddenly, the coolness of the tunnel grew arid, sticky, unbearably humid.
“Wh – Where are you taking me?” I questioned then demanded.
My cryptic friend whirled around; I stole a glance at his now encrusted form: bones all brittle – dry and cracked; hollowed out eye-sockets with sand seeping from them.
“Ha! I’m taking you home – back where you belong!”
“And where the hell is that?”
“Exactly!” he mused. “Back to the desert! Welcome home!”
<><+><>
Sweat poured profusely from my body as my screaming and thrashing subsided. I bolted from my mattress within the dilapidated high-rise and peered out the window.
"Ah, relief! There’s no place like home! I survived another trip through the asphalt jungle – I AM KING!”
I was more than relieved to see the army of people marching below: all commuting from their cubicles to the nearest Starbucks and back again. The taxis were honking; the lights were flashing; and the smog smothered the city under a smug blanket. All was back to normal upon the endless dunes of desert below.
I stole a glance at the tourniquet and syringe still married to my arm. The eye of the needle had cried – its many voices still rushing through my ears, though I never heard the whisper left unsaid:
“No, EYE AM KING!”
<><+><>
My lips: cracked and dry like the arid sky above me. The sound: in sense-a-round, without a single word that loved me. Here I sat: high on a hill, taking in the sand below me. That sky: so high and dry, like the freezing cold that snowed me.
“Are you hungry?” said the voices of a million chorused Legion.
“Without a doubt!” I gave a shout through this famished, damning season.
“Then take a look at what you see – there’s more than meets the eye.”
My veins coursed through a thousand roads, and the eye of the needle began to cry. It all seemed so hysterical: one prick caused so much pain.
“Ah, but then again,” ol’ Legion said, “there is the sweet refrain. Come, drink the acid rain.”
I drank until I had my fill; I felt the prickly flash.
“Don’t worry, child,” my friend remarked, “for every car won’t crash. Look out toward all you find below… Now speak of what you see.”
“I see the sand of people swimming in the desert’s sea.”
“And now that you have had your fill, all that you see is yours: the countless corporations and the mercenaries’ wars.”
“I want it all! I want it now for now I know I’m king!” The needle’s eye had caught my ear apart from its first sting.
“Then fly above all that you see within the rush and flow!”
I took the plunge and soared until I hit the earth below.
<><+><>
Crash!
The impact of my body crumpled the metal atop the Mercedes E-Class.
The commuter reared back in horror. “Sonuva… Man, would you take a look at that guy!”
The three-piece-suit holding the Starbucks cup peered about the twisted carnage and shattered glass. “Damn! What a crying shame! What a waste – and it was such a nice car.”
<><+><>
Immobile, I lay broken: just another broken statistic atop a broken car, amidst a broken world.
“Come, follow me.”
I heard. I heard with distinct clarity. It was a miracle! Ha-ha! I was nothing short of a miracle; my fix hadn’t failed me! I recognized the voice of my only friend, Legion – the figure boasting a million voices.
I picked myself up, brushed myself off, gave the commuters the middle finger then followed my friend into the heart of the suburbs. We wandered into a discreet alleyway and began trekking down the dark stone steps. While mimicking Legion’s footsteps through the underworld’s shadows, I thought I witnessed his being transform.
"It’s simply the trip we’re taking; my mind is playing tricks on me within the city’s underbelly."
Through the heavy thumping, my heart found its resolve until, suddenly, the coolness of the tunnel grew arid, sticky, unbearably humid.
“Wh – Where are you taking me?” I questioned then demanded.
My cryptic friend whirled around; I stole a glance at his now encrusted form: bones all brittle – dry and cracked; hollowed out eye-sockets with sand seeping from them.
“Ha! I’m taking you home – back where you belong!”
“And where the hell is that?”
“Exactly!” he mused. “Back to the desert! Welcome home!”
<><+><>
Sweat poured profusely from my body as my screaming and thrashing subsided. I bolted from my mattress within the dilapidated high-rise and peered out the window.
"Ah, relief! There’s no place like home! I survived another trip through the asphalt jungle – I AM KING!”
I was more than relieved to see the army of people marching below: all commuting from their cubicles to the nearest Starbucks and back again. The taxis were honking; the lights were flashing; and the smog smothered the city under a smug blanket. All was back to normal upon the endless dunes of desert below.
I stole a glance at the tourniquet and syringe still married to my arm. The eye of the needle had cried – its many voices still rushing through my ears, though I never heard the whisper left unsaid:
“No, EYE AM KING!”
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