Winds of life toss violently. Ruminations entrap in purgatory.
There is no redeeming quality. There is no magical ending to the movie.
The credits have rolled, and the theater has been emptied, but I sit alone
With tears streaming in darkness.
Utterances are mumbled and incoherent to the naked ear. The dark parasite Feeds from anxiety and irrational fear; the gluttonous scene renders me an Unwilling host.
I am gaunt from consumption. Hollow and listless …
Hope is measured in terms of respirations. Time is non-existent in the
Torment of endless darkness; eyes turn dark like black ink in shallow water.
I can hear the wails of the woman in the black veil; her cries are torturous
As she pushes an empty stroller; the tattered train of her black dress
Dragging behind her; I dare not pray, lest my anger invokes utterances of sacrilege;
“God where the f—k are you?”