(no subject)
It's been another one of those days thta would have been spent better laying in bed, Ive jsut gotten sicker adn sicker as the day went on.
Slowly his breath creeps in and out, a frosty exhale illuminated by the pale moonlite. A dull reflection forms in the poor of turbid watter that lays in front of him, Kneeling down he feels the colness in his bones, hears them creek adn complain, only a young man and his body is yet so old, his bones deteriorating liek a condemed house, his mind slowly slipping away like dry sand through the fingertips. Leaning farther over this darkened water his eyes fix on a decreped and gloomy image, a crumpled disformed shape, one that horrifies his, he pulls back and feels the cold air ripping through his lungs as his stone heart screaming in his chest strugles to keep up. Slowly he calms down, like the aftermath of a strong storm, shaken and sore but he is ok. His thoughts wonder what that image was, his deteriorated mind trying its hardest to comprehend what he saw. The fear of realization sets in when the thought occurs, that broken image in the murky pool was him, all that horror was him. That fear grips his mind and seems to spike pain in what is left of his heart. Wanting to know for sure, he needs to know more. Shakily he peers back into the pool, what he sees are two empty eyes staring back at him, sunk deep into a pale face that shows more anguich than anyone would ever want to see, black rims around the eyes show adn exhaustion that has gripped the body, his lips form a frown that convey all of his sorrows and saddnes in such a way that he can not bare to look at it for long, the frail frame that supports his head is weak, a shroud of starvation holds his body strong, bones are emphasized more than they should normally be, scars run all over his body adn fresh cuts still ooze his blood that his week heart ptries to move through his decreped shell. The image looks liek one that should be laying in a casket. It horrifiies him adn he has to pull away, he tumbles backwaads adn falles to the ground, what breath his lungs hold is stolen from him as he hits the groud, his lungs struggle to pull in this cold air, tears fall from his empty eyes, It was too much for him to take in, never before had he witnessed such a horror, the image still screams in his head, burnt into the back of his rotting brain. A visoin that will never leave him, a realization of what he has become adn how week adn insignifigant he is, no strngth left to go on he lays in wait for the inevitabel to occur. Soon his breathign will slow, his heart will slow to a stop, his weak lungs will soon be empty adn he will indeed be the frail and broken frame laying in the coffin
Slowly his breath creeps in and out, a frosty exhale illuminated by the pale moonlite. A dull reflection forms in the poor of turbid watter that lays in front of him, Kneeling down he feels the colness in his bones, hears them creek adn complain, only a young man and his body is yet so old, his bones deteriorating liek a condemed house, his mind slowly slipping away like dry sand through the fingertips. Leaning farther over this darkened water his eyes fix on a decreped and gloomy image, a crumpled disformed shape, one that horrifies his, he pulls back and feels the cold air ripping through his lungs as his stone heart screaming in his chest strugles to keep up. Slowly he calms down, like the aftermath of a strong storm, shaken and sore but he is ok. His thoughts wonder what that image was, his deteriorated mind trying its hardest to comprehend what he saw. The fear of realization sets in when the thought occurs, that broken image in the murky pool was him, all that horror was him. That fear grips his mind and seems to spike pain in what is left of his heart. Wanting to know for sure, he needs to know more. Shakily he peers back into the pool, what he sees are two empty eyes staring back at him, sunk deep into a pale face that shows more anguich than anyone would ever want to see, black rims around the eyes show adn exhaustion that has gripped the body, his lips form a frown that convey all of his sorrows and saddnes in such a way that he can not bare to look at it for long, the frail frame that supports his head is weak, a shroud of starvation holds his body strong, bones are emphasized more than they should normally be, scars run all over his body adn fresh cuts still ooze his blood that his week heart ptries to move through his decreped shell. The image looks liek one that should be laying in a casket. It horrifiies him adn he has to pull away, he tumbles backwaads adn falles to the ground, what breath his lungs hold is stolen from him as he hits the groud, his lungs struggle to pull in this cold air, tears fall from his empty eyes, It was too much for him to take in, never before had he witnessed such a horror, the image still screams in his head, burnt into the back of his rotting brain. A visoin that will never leave him, a realization of what he has become adn how week adn insignifigant he is, no strngth left to go on he lays in wait for the inevitabel to occur. Soon his breathign will slow, his heart will slow to a stop, his weak lungs will soon be empty adn he will indeed be the frail and broken frame laying in the coffin