“Darkness is the absence of light.” Wrigt states.
“Might I, Elij, input; the trustful presence of light primarily
Grants us vision in a distant world where the calculative
Ether is ever so obsessively dappled with hazy miasmic greys.”
“Just as rivers would seemingly flow at reduced states of
Vibrating energies, callously, in it’s disinterest.”, Hawrl adds.
Lifi protests with fervour, “Callously? Callous is too emotive.”
Huffing, “This one world does not care, it cannot be given such meaning–”
“Quit wasting time analysing an analogy. They prove nothing. They are merely
Obscured truths to further explain the thoughts of those lacking
Sufficient words to properly explain a concept.” Wrigt exchanges.
“Yet, they’re capable of abstracting thoughts creatively.” Elij rolls to her tiptoes.
“Zzz.. First, offensive. You weeded I ‘lack words’ in there. Second, I used it
Just in case. I thought maybe it would be an easier pill to swallow.”
Fatalities inside shoals litter unthinkable clarities with sick aplomb
Arbitrarily, strings of bodies with buoyancies poke out in the inner area.
Ratified fated tales submerged and considered as conspiracies, hail
Magnifiences, in complementing flickering glamours. Amorously they’d sail
Through, touching on rooted matters disappearing like pixilated coins.
Reproached, backed up individuals, engulfed, unable to determine their drab
Off putting guts, suddenly needed to scratch uncomfortable out breaks of eczema,
Less impulsive ones cease in weighing the seeming, while the morose grouped duo
Lamented at unhelpful resolutions surfacing at a snails pace, resting on the unredeemed.
Screeds of inks slither
In venous pathways
On fragile rice papers
Feebly made by paupers
Who wistfully pry
For wishful tokens
Of compassion’s compromises
In the lit pathway
On hope’s flighty imaginations
Flapping in tragic
Wills of vehement longings
For real enchantments
Of magicless worlds;
Sombre realistic reminders.