Fallen Ascension
His eyelids slowly open
As a bird freely sores through the blue sky just above.
His love for life, he realizes,
is tainted
by his lust for death.
With a smile and a tear
he pulls the trigger
waiting for the bird to fall.
...expectant of a curtain of smoke and feathers to materialize before him;
in the millisecond his eyes see darkness,
the same grey shadows he anticipates in death,
his eyes instead behold light and the unphased flight of his winged target.
Spitting venemous curses to the sky,
bearing the sunlight spilling upon him and the creature escaping,
he continues to stalk the ground -
seeking solace for a lonely, grey bullet,
needing to split flesh to find refuge, rest;
to introduce life to it's second stage,
freeing an animal soul from its earthly costume.
The salty tear trickling to his lips,
a reminder of the flight of a life preserved.
He breathes heavily,
his chest rising and falling as erratically
as the frightened bird's path.
The blood pounding in his ears
matches the wild beating of a heart still desiring death
or is it merely escape from life?
He squints into the sunlight,
stance uncertain as he watches the bird's smooth ascension
a w a y,
d
r
a
w
p
u
His arm hangs limply,
suddenly aware of the weight of his weapon,
the weight of his lust for death,
the fear anchoring him to the earth
afraid of flight,
instead living in death again and again.
The wind blows his halo to the ground.
The gun drops adjacent.
With a dry tear,
he falls to his knees.
As golden rays penetrate his heart,
He stretches his body out to accept the burn.
A sad feeling of fatigue floats about his soul.
Watching the bird who got away fly further and further into the sky
He imagines himself as that bird
Alive or dead.
It's all the same.
With his eyes blinking, fluttering like wings.
He soars as high as the sun can see.
Looking below at somebody alive strained to death's weight.
He wonders how must it feel like to never fly?
To never rise above
To never sweep down,
catch life by surprise
To never swim through skies
and dash through seas.
To never kiss stars.
To live a life of linear, horizontal steps.
Left, right. Left, right. Left, right.
going no where.
He's left right where he started.
He looks back, and remembers
how his hand trembled in fear,
missing death by a split second.
Damn dove.
-Sammy Jenkis
-Spaztik
-Resa
-L
As a bird freely sores through the blue sky just above.
His love for life, he realizes,
is tainted
by his lust for death.
With a smile and a tear
he pulls the trigger
waiting for the bird to fall.
...expectant of a curtain of smoke and feathers to materialize before him;
in the millisecond his eyes see darkness,
the same grey shadows he anticipates in death,
his eyes instead behold light and the unphased flight of his winged target.
Spitting venemous curses to the sky,
bearing the sunlight spilling upon him and the creature escaping,
he continues to stalk the ground -
seeking solace for a lonely, grey bullet,
needing to split flesh to find refuge, rest;
to introduce life to it's second stage,
freeing an animal soul from its earthly costume.
The salty tear trickling to his lips,
a reminder of the flight of a life preserved.
He breathes heavily,
his chest rising and falling as erratically
as the frightened bird's path.
The blood pounding in his ears
matches the wild beating of a heart still desiring death
or is it merely escape from life?
He squints into the sunlight,
stance uncertain as he watches the bird's smooth ascension
a w a y,
d
r
a
w
p
u
His arm hangs limply,
suddenly aware of the weight of his weapon,
the weight of his lust for death,
the fear anchoring him to the earth
afraid of flight,
instead living in death again and again.
The wind blows his halo to the ground.
The gun drops adjacent.
With a dry tear,
he falls to his knees.
As golden rays penetrate his heart,
He stretches his body out to accept the burn.
A sad feeling of fatigue floats about his soul.
Watching the bird who got away fly further and further into the sky
He imagines himself as that bird
Alive or dead.
It's all the same.
With his eyes blinking, fluttering like wings.
He soars as high as the sun can see.
Looking below at somebody alive strained to death's weight.
He wonders how must it feel like to never fly?
To never rise above
To never sweep down,
catch life by surprise
To never swim through skies
and dash through seas.
To never kiss stars.
To live a life of linear, horizontal steps.
Left, right. Left, right. Left, right.
going no where.
He's left right where he started.
He looks back, and remembers
how his hand trembled in fear,
missing death by a split second.
Damn dove.
-Sammy Jenkis
-Spaztik
-Resa
-L