Turmoil 2.
Things I put myself through.
I surprise myself! 1AM, still not asleep. I’m suffering from something else, not insomnia. But I should go sleep. Goodnight world.
Things are not what they’re supposed to be.
Great unexpectations, wandering worlds apart.
Falling through gallows, the big gap that distances
I turn on the tap, water goes wishy-washy.
Then, memories.
Moonlight flashes through the solitary window that
sits in its place oh-so-daintily, so quietly.
I blink again. Eyes now wide open and free
of particles that obstruct my opinions. I set thee free;
he walks past me. As if nothing happened.
I look at the pictures on the walls of the skyscraper.
Painfully, I wince with every step I took. It was pain
that was excruciatingly unbearable.
As a result of my past experiences.
Lightning strikes twice, I lose my hearing.
Thunders come after. No resonance.
I feel my world slipping away to oblivion
that horizon.
I feel your touch just pass by, missing me.
Wafts of your scented perfume entice me to your
haunted bedroom.
Gratefully, I thank thee for nights of
purely unbearable cognition.
Goodnight, world.
Making amends.
The dawn has broken, the day has just begun. Sun has just risen on the horizon, The First Day has just arrived.
The First Day, not very welcomed, but it felt all the more necessary to make its appearance. The First Day makes people wonder, and shiver with fear. Its entrance serves to make a impact upon the pending audience, those that wonder.
It won’t be long till The Second Day. But that can wait.
The First Day; he arrives. Yes, he. The mere mention of its name implies its masculine presence. He strides in with confidence, beating everyone to the gate.
I stand forth in outright trembling; for I am worried. I am scared of him. I look very afraid, but deep down inside, it is much more. To know the Yesterday has just passed, to know that “Two Oh Oh Seven” has lagged behind.
He is now before me, towering over my frail and decrepit frame.
What shall he say? He thinks for a while.
“Are you ready?”
I tremble, but reply with as much assurance as my courage could muster.
“Yes.”
“Put down your hands, I want to see them clean.”
“Alright.”
I dropped my baggage, and suddenly the chains that I felt hanging over me for the past years disappeared.
He listens closely to the sound of the clanging. Then he speaks again.
“I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“Okay.”
And I wait for the longest time ever.
Christmas Gallows: The Ghost Of Christmas Present & Future
The last of the series, this post serves to wrap up the last of the Christmas tale this year, the finale, the Omega.
Not knowing the dangers of “toils and snares” that lay ahead of him, he took a brave step forward into raging thunderstorms and pouring rain. But disappointment.
Alas, the lack of what was most important was fulfilled. He found it, left it, and jetted off to his next destination. What more did he expect? What more could he expect?
He was just living according to his expectations, not others. What can he say but speechless words of solitude? Even the seemingly encouraging vices that spew from his comrades’ mouths are full of lies and deceit. The very people whom he entrusted his rightful brain to.
But it was a first, and he was proud.
This wasn’t going to be part of a past that he’ll soon forget, no, it wasn’t.
This was going to be the present, and the future.
Blessed Christmas to all gratefully blessed citizens out there, celebrating a heartwarming Christmas is always such a lovely sight. Toiling in front of a square box isn’t exactly the holiday mood.
But it was going to pass away, so be it.
That, was the ghost of Christmas past.
But he wasn’t going to regret. He never did, and never will. No matter.
