Monday, March 23, 2009

Shower of nails agaisnt roof slates dressed in the most sombre grey. A deafening screech jostling the shredded masks for space along an alley of battered tiles. Shattered windows lining the weed overrun path, each lightning flash revealing a glimpse of the wretched beings within. Beings where hope holds no meaning and suffering no longer applies. A hunched figure trudges pass, covered in a shroud of the deepest red. Leaving lingering footprints of sand and sweat, nails passing through him like whispers lost in the wind. A sun of the darkest black rears its head over the horizon and time freezes as the world is turned into void. All that remains, a figure shourded in the deepest red.


Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home