The soft gurgle of the brook, the water lapping up against the rocks, pristine, clear. I see the sky in it, as it is above me, blue, serene and endless.

The swirl of smoke rises into the dreary darkness, my fingers trace patterns in them as I lay here. The night envelops all around me, the walls, imposing in their might, holding me, crushing me.

The soft cool breeze flows like the waves along the green grass where I sit, I feel it coming to me, cradling me in a soft embrace before passing me by, it dances before my eyes, in little spiral gusts, lifting me.

The road ahead is bleak, I cannot see, only the whispers echo through them, calling me out. There are monsters, monsters who reside in the dark labyrinth of my mind, they talk to me, the lead me on into the abyss, they whisper in my ear, drag me, hold me, and they'll never let me go

Comments

  1. I am glad you wrote , but why monsters in the season of love ?

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