It’s the middle of the night, you’re out, walking. Trying to clear your head after a rather heated argument when you hear a woman cry for help. You look and you can see it’s coming from a little grove of trees, just off the path. The path you’re on isn’t the most well lit path in the first place, but that?
That’s far from any beaten path and pitch dark, as it is you can only see it due to the shadows cast from lights on the other side, which doesn’t help you much. Looking at your phone you see that you’re out of minutes and the battery is about dead, but the woman is screaming for help, loudly.So you rush off, towards that darkened path, shivering a bit in the chill of winter, you should have wore a heavier coat really.
Heading closer you start to notice something, after about three cries of “Help! Someone! Please Help!” there is a pause before it starts again, exactly the same, the tone, the volume, all of it the exact same. You slow your pace but it’s too late, you see them too late as they come of the little wooded area, one of them actually having a net and tossing it over you as you feel a small prick, a little pinch in your arm. Looking down you see what looks like a dart sticking from you before you suddenly become exhausted.
Looking up you see the silhouette of three men standing over you, with just enough light to make out a smile. “We got one boys, this one should sell for a pretty penny. Told you it’d work.”
Leaning down he grabs your hair to pull you up “They never can resist the chance to be a hero.”
I need the voices to leave me alone.
I’m sick of all the screaming, I’m sick of the clawing cloying creatures clamoring for clarity.
I’m tired of trodding through trenches that tremble and shake such screaming sirens to saunter through a sick and soiled psyche.
I’m sick of all the screaming, the creatures crying and clamoring, the screaming and the smoke and all the pain between, I’m tired of a scratchy skull and smoldering soul. I’m just so, so tired…please, please let the voices for once leave me alone…let me be so so for once silence might be known.
I would sleep if not for fear of dreaming.
It is not terrors that I avoid by leaving open my eyes. No, it is smiles and light and that feeling that avoids me in waking lands.
That warmth I’ve never known, that care for me that has never been shown. I fear the good seemings, those wonderful dreamings.
That is what leaves me awake and with a fear of sleep.
The idea of knowing a lover that was and might never be, a ghost that I’ll never again see.
That is why I won’t rest my eyes for even a short while, as to know that warmth and smile and lose it so fast.
It fills me mind, body, and soul, with not but rot and bile.
I see upon a tree leaf green, a speck of a stranger hue, a stranger color, something truly new.
That stranger speck that strange new hue, brighter than Autumn’s red, bolder than Autumn gold, it glittered in that strange Fall dawn and was something few would be brave enough to know.
I did dare to see, I did dare to find that color so new and so strange, and it filled my sight and filled my eyes and wet my weary and parched soul.
Now if only I could, if I only I will find that stranger hue, that stranger color, bolder than an Autumn gold and brighter than I brightest crimson. If only I could find that stranger hue, that stranger color I never could say I knew.
Oh to show the world what that green leaf did share that day, something so bold and bright and new. Wouldn’t that be something bold to do?
Truly something to brave, the task to share something so strange and so new on that Autumn dawning, that fall day, oh to be so bold, it indeed would be something new.