analytics

doubt

The dreamer despairs under the blanket of the repeated note: a melody of the simple and the quiet, a note.  She whispers her wish to the winds, and as a twisted act of the djinn, she receives curséd answer. A fulfillment.  The monotony is broken.  Her forever sun falls under a shadow.

The mystery twin returns.  They entwine in vector, resurrect: rise from crypt.  They are the hope of rebirth to the other.  The unadulterated and the adult.  The one to shake the sun from its ever gaze; the other to paint the virgin scent upon his troubled trail.

The clean cast water of the sainted rose meets the blood of the east. And the lies begin at where is the end to the mask? Charm and anger, a sharpened smile to the free mourner.  A crimson streak through the clear stream.  And your heart trembles as the dreamer's dream crumbles.

You twist and sway with the moving eye.  Descent and dance until the rise of a gasp, and knowledge is born.  Knowledge is born and innocence dies. The twisted twin twists the words of life, twisting sight and sound.  And your eye accompanies the dreamer's eye, you gaze in horror.  You chorusate her protest.  Are they not human? The snake turns. Are they?  He pierces you.

As the corruption spreads, the waters taint, the words walk, and smoke trails.  And the dreamer nightmares.  She of pure speak, of pure love, of pure sun, speaks murder.  And you know despite eventual demise, the demon has won.

The home, quiet worn and white is weapon. The unquenchable sun day is eclipsed. The dreamer's dream is corpse.

Rating (-5/+5 scale): +3

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