White water, over black stones.

**lusence** · 06-26-09, 06:51 PM

The Dirty Relic-

You are floating in the sky. Looking down on a white city, of white rocks, and blue, reflecting depths of white, and black, blue waters. Floating along above temples, full of fountains.

The water on the shore met the sparkling sands. Diamonds, they sparkled like white light, the lone fish jumped up and down touching the blue, clear air. Your eye followed this to the horizon, the broken white castle, it was white, not now, all broken and white, but only on top, the bottom was burning rubble and ruin.

You wondered along the skies, looking down, walking on the most white fields of fluffy blue clouds. It was like heaven, until hell caught your eye. Pulling you down, in a self willing collision. The people around you where heading up the hill, leading too the castle, you stand from your knees.

The Dead Death-

The climb up the mountain was very short, but with so many of you, so many men. All stinking of fear, and home, where a sickness, and bed, would be a heaven. Of such smells, even shit was in the mud on the trail leading you up to the broken castle.

On top of the hill all was silent. Except the shoving and grunting, oh the sounds. You could imagine it. You could only shake, you where naked, they all ran off with armor and fears such as you could only understand.

As the last shaking man in full metal stumbles past, you decide to move your legs. They no longer float, and your almost up to your knees in the depths of decay. The castle of dark white lears down at you. The sun was shinning at you from beneath the rot, the mud, oh so deep.

As you reach the ruined castles front ruins, you crawl down some ruined stairs, one of the only entrances left into the place. Your nakedness consumes you, and as your tears form up and you reach for a stick your nightmares come true.

The waiting nightmare calls you can only run. In fear only armed with a stick you face it. Its face is melted wax, with onyx stone moving around at random. The mouth drips and its arms reach for a hug.

You put your stick into its chest, it sinks in. And in continues to come for you. The face is that of a nightmare, it solidifies on your terrors, most terrifying. Most like the hairy spiders face, lager than life, it crawls into your pupils.

Like a melting wax candle pushed through a pin hole this mass makes its self known. You notice it looks at you. You eyes shut, black. They open, and you see him, them. The same man, over and over. Watching over this. And he also wonders.

The thing on the end of your stick moves away. The other thing looking at you from the hole in the wall move towards you. Its a man, he is wearing a dark robe and the dead wax things flank him, looking at you with the same curious inquiry.

The War Of Earth-

The metal things from the earth reaked like men. They walked the same, talked the same. But, they had only this to live for. Metal, and death. For over infinity, they have walked to the top of this mountain fighting off this nexus of death and evil. And even man, oh man, wrapped in metal, metal, metal...

The men, was what it was, and they faught. One army, another army, they wanted to help. They came to stop the evil. The fight, and they died. Again and again. All was wasted and the only toll was the ruined white tower. And still the nightmares with their masters consumed all our loves. all our passions.

The men felt this, knew the hate for the black rotting stone reaching up for them from the white tower. And they hated. Even the monsters feared, for their wrath would call the dragons, and not even the imagination could withhold that.

So on the edge of victory over death the men faught eachother over their own frustrations. They didnt kill fast enough, too many have died, oh the women, oh the children.

And the nations colided, and the waxy face of the monsters pouring from the relic, the castles heart, rotted black, was sighing, in joy. The men could not face it, at the heart. They where cowards. They could not do it, they could not face it. But they would kill each other with such ease, even the monsters in wax wanned away.

Flight Of Abandon-

You found the armies fight amongst themselves and the monsters chasing you from everywhere. You found a dead mans armor and a broken sword and ruined shield. And you ran until you could fly. The death still on you like the cloud of flies tracking you.

You make as far as the edge of the battle grounds, and land on your face next to the a catapult crew, bodies where crawling around like spiders. They seem open to conversation and you ask them for directions. They point towards the way you came, and begin to crank a wheel, with broken bloody hands. A creek of blood ran between your legs, the bodies of the wounded and dying still crawling round.

Your mind couldnt seem to understand this instruction. Like a nightmare you knew you didnt want to go that way, but didnt want to upset the men arming the balista. So you run and stumble back the way you came like a soldier you thought they wanted you to be.

The rival armies of good clash against one another in front of you, in front of the castle. Fires are burning deep into the sockets of the white castle, guarding the white tower, all black now,shine with firey highlights.

The armies screams of triumph and deafet keep rising and falling like the shaking earth. Some still screaming up to the neck in the dead and dying. Face like a strawberry, a forbidden fruit. Another roar and a flash of lightning and the face explodes causing the heap of dead and dying to shower down on all in the battlefield.

Gates

The sky rained down blood and of course, guts. It was refreshing to some, met in what was once shining metal steamed as if the hot blood was ice cold. You couldnt seem to understand it, the men, they faught like monsters with such power, such force, yet only against eachother. When faced with the black retch of the castle, once there bastion of hope and worship, now a rotten melting face with jealous nighmares looking them in the eye. They cower and shame themselves with self inflicted tragidies. Tons upon tons of them, and they dont come cheap either. The mans, man, sits and laughs all by himself, his tears stand up and become more like wax, nightmares.

At the entrance of the only gate, you have to crawl over and through masses of debris, that of man, that of earth, all leave you red, and tired. You make into the front entrance of the gate and look around. There are more men acting as if you just entered their store, they have weapons for sale, but if your part of their army you may get one for a small price.

Its all broken and dying, the creatures of your nightmares are still screaming silently at you from every corner. Almost like spiders, the inner group of men know they are there but seem unable to deal with them in any way. They would kill them all if they could, but they can only hide behind giant shields of wood and metal.

You are a man, and you can relate to this fear that you feel when you see the demons this castle is offering, yet you can see that this is only a reflection. Like a man looking in the mirror and seeing another man. Its hard to explain as you are this man, and you are also in this mirror. They dont seem to get it either, and offer you blunt instruments for deathly trauma upon their enemies.

You can barely breath in this, your armor is stank, you must get out of here, the zombie like wax figures keep teasing you as little groups of men disapear deeper into the castle. Daring you to join them. They terrify you, like a reflection of your most deprived moment.

You can only hold your head so high, as you make your way back out, choking on your own vomit. Your fear is a shame, your warrior spirit is a sham, its all a joke. Like clowns beating eachother over the head with mock mallets to please the emporer and his party.

In this shame you strip off what remains of your soul, your armor, your sword, your shield. Naked again you try to run and fly down the hill, leading to the bloody castle in white, and black. You catch a small cloud of floating ash, and in a whirlwind you rise up untill the smoke and stench clears.

Sweet Sustenance-

Your soul lifts and you feel like laughing as your tears fall down to earth like diamond raindrops. Maybe in this see of blood and tragady someone looked up, and caught one on his tounge like a snowflake. Maybe that someone was you, or could be...

Joy begins to clear your eyes and you again see the beauty of this white city, this haven of such souls, angels, but what is that without the contrast. Like from the fire into the ice, you splash headlong into the nearest fountain offering another rest place for the citizens of the city that never was, and always is.

As you rise out of the water the first thing you notice is the people act as if you are not even there. As if they see flying naked men land in fountains on a daily basis. As you step out of the fountain you feel something is stuck to your foot. It drops off as you lift it up to look. A penny hits the ground, you wonder who is on the face of it. But you decide not to ruin the fun and breath in the fresh air, the gentle throb, and ebb that the sounds of the people make, the sun warming your exposed skin. All of this you take in, and the light brightens around you till your swimming in the sun.

You can feel it in your nerve ending, like a cold draft, you wonder what that is. And you follow that feeling along untill you reach the market. A warm furry thing is rubbing against you ankle and you feel good. You look down and see a black cat purring and loving you, wriggling between your legs and looking at you with innocent eyes. Oh pussy you think, and smile up to the blue sky.

You start to crack up and laugh, oh such a joy you feel, the cat feels like your are up to your heels in a bubbling hot spring, laughing with you and tickling your nerve endings. Ohhhh, your sigh is like a cool draft of air cooling the sun shine on your skin, you get goose bumps on your back. I caress your spine, spiders run up, blood trickles down...

The girls moan and shift in their booths, selling you some stinky products, fish most likely, and some crabs, and other clams of such shell fish. Oh the statisfaction it brings to look them in the face and drool, food was coming, you both could feel it.

Ladies would tend to the products, bending over here and there dusting off their skirts, spreading their butt holes. Hi, they would say if they could. One caught your eye, a pretty blonde was waving at you with the hair from the back of her head. You could smell the catch and enhale the fine wine from over her shoulder.
It stank, but you rubbed it all over your self, and could not get enough...

The Water Runs Dry-

The feelings die down. Enough is enough, and it was never enough. Just a smell, a taste, never very satisfying cause you where always left wanting more. A thirst that would never die. You tounge stuck too the roof of your mouth. Such tastes where never the same, as they where, yesterday, and tomorrow, and well, now for that matter.

You feet leave stains on the white stone, they dry up. And you walk this way till you enter a crystal dome in the center of the market. People are in robes, in pants, and in every article of nonchalant you can imagine. None are naked as you are, but they dont even notice you, unless...

The pussy is still following you, if you look back you know you could find the black watching over you and licking the its paws. And it felt good, you like it when that cat looks at you. Its eyes are so innocent, so sweet, yet like a father, or mother, they comfort you.

The dome is like a hive people buzzing around, nothing seems to make sense, they seem to be looking at books, or pamplets, and magazines. You finally stop to pick one up after you see an old man looking satisfied read one and walk away with it under his arm.

Its all in words, they make no sense, but after awhile you find some pictures. They are of men, in armor. Swords and spears, in men. And the pages slowly start to turn red. Page after page, horror after horror, until you up to your kneels in a pool of blood, and you notice the ringing in your ears is the crying, the wailing of the cat.

Its All In A Word-

The alarm is going off in your head. Its buzzing around like an angry wasp. And its stinger pops your bubble and you jump up from bed. Its 12:00, the alarm says. And its not very pleased with you. It starts to rise up from the stand.

You wake up, hearing an alarm in your ears, its sooo fucking loud, you swing out with your left hand for the snooze bar in self defense. This is harrasment but no one cares. The clock grabs your hand, and squeezes.

You head askes you if your okay. You dont know what to say. It asks you if you hurt yourself, again your quiet, like a child. Your head asks you if your heard it. Did you?

Such dreams where flickering on your eyelashes when you woke up in a pool of white liquid. It shines with every move, every thought, it was you, and it was forever.

A Quiet Slumber-

It woke you with a lick on the eye. The crystals, the sunshine, the pretty girls with the innocent pussy. Where all gone now, only ash, and red sunsets that never ended in the ever lasting gloom of a black cloud. And it woke you with a lick, one eye finally opened in a reverse wink.

Its face was above yours, massive like your world, in your head, and its nostrils flexed in relief at your recognition. It snorted in triumph and the ground beneath you shook. The air from your lungs came whoosing out in a gasp.

The dragon raised its head into the air and roared an earth shatering note and the sky caught fire so bright the sun looked black. It talked to you with cool colors and hot feelings. The dragon wanted you as a friend, the only one that mattered, that ever mattered. And you never would ride, and you cowered up into a ball and cried for your mommy.

The dragon was in horror of its own self. It wanted to free you but its was only terrifying you, oh the horror. The dragon would eat its own head for you, if it could, but it couldnt even cry. Its tears all dried up, long long ago.

The Needed Death-

The ground was shaking beneath you, your covered in snot and tears. Your hair is dripping. A man aproaches you, his frame is all black, shadows, 20ft tall, he reaches down to you with and armored hand, spikes, they still bleed.

As you stand you notice your legs are red, they are covered in blood, oozeing from everywhere, its like high tide in this crystal chamber of the red stained kaleidoscope, my third eye, blinks when you turn it.

The armored hand pets you, and you are thrown from the bloody crystal chamber onto a dragon, flying high. You only made it, and he laughs at you from behind his shoulder on his red dragon, you know he is only thinking of teaching you of war, and what that shall entail. Oh you where such a coward.

He shows you how to lure an army to you, how to eat em all. How to tear down the walls and find the soft treats inside, how to make sure your always willing to deal with those big fish at the top of the towers. Always make sure you eat, the redder the better, he taught you how to live, and how to fly when you only wanted to die.

This black night was you, and he was your hunger. The world burned, and the white castle was now your crystal, obsidian throne, burnt down, till, all bowed to you, and your reflection.