NightShine

"Purpose"

The alarm clock went off with its deafening mercurial chime. Blinking abruptly to the digital world of 6am. Its harrowing might displaying its authority like a brick wall amending the pathway to another side of reality. It shined in the dimly lit room setting on the night stand beside the bed. I rolled over onto the billowy softness. The cool comfort of blankets caressing my body in a chilled silent room. A thousand memories coursed like grasshoppers in a field of endless shuffling. There wings taking flight to dispose there stretched legs in a readied stance. One by one the plains of hollow atrophy desisted there normal intentions. I sat upward on my bed. Running my hands through a thick head of dark curls. Yawning into the room in a tense sensation of sleepiness. The dreams had been carrying me nightly. Approaching the mantel of my heartbeat. Proposing there influence in redefining my blood. Inking my sorrow with it in the vast wilderness of my forged vital euphoria. I stood upright my feet testing the floor below me. Morning had crept its way into my bedroom and crowned me in normality in my tshirt and shorts. Strolling slowly to the bathroom the hallway was dark and empty. No shifting of paintings. No visceral screaming from the shadows. Just a faint reality in the dullness of my journey to take a shower. The cool water replenishing my vitality now wrapped in mittens. Hung inviting by the fireplace. Awaiting my fingers to keep them company in the shrill chill of the air. The winter cold deploying my course of unknown daily events. I tethered my thoughts on all of this as I prepared to begin my day. A quick shave, cologne, and fresh clothes pursued me as curtains swung open and I stepped out onto the floor mat. I glanced in the mirror at the wounds around my neck. Downward spiraling into the shape of a necklace that was now absent from my body. The lesions of torn redness in the clasping identity of razor sharp teeth. striking my tender flesh. Proposing there authority over my neckline of a bruised and beaten chest. I was mortal once again. Dressed and ready I grabbed my bag and dell laptop for the weekly meeting. Mr. Chambers my boss of 20 years hated two things. Tardiness and unprepared presentations. I hadn't been sleeping well. Waking in a pool of iced sweat trickling its decent down tired muscles. The sting of its presence soiling the wounds where the necklace once hung. A minion of eternal beings beckoning me from the darkness. Until consciousness barred there stance and imprisoned them once again within an unseen kingdom. This was my nightly ritual. My worth to the sweet relief of restful sleep. Toiling within its dark brutality until I was once again fully awake. I approached my finely tuned sports car. Cherry red with the galloping horse inviting me into its resonating design. Ferrari spelled its diction in black unfettered letters. I slammed the door and nestled back in the soft comfort of fine leather. I joined the key to its final resting place for the moment. A quick twist and the engine attempted to dance to life. Nothing. I sat there in a troubled annoyance. Defending my right to start my vehicles silent and still engine. Again dead. Another twist of the key and once again deafness contacted the response. "Damn it! This is great!" Grabbing my bag i pursed the gravel driveway with fine italian leather. Polished shoes sharpened brightly the shine that money could impose upon a wearers smile. I was proud and vein. A successful business man in the art of stock and trade. I had accumulated more worth for my company then any other employee around me. The finest brewed coffee daily awaited for me on my desk. My workspace arranged in a thoroughly proper manor. Corresponding color codes lit up performance charts and yearly dividens on the board behind me. I was wealthy, important, and very handsome. Little did I know the journey that awaited me. The lesson of yearning that would encapture my hearts brittle shallowness within. Awaiting me the shadows turned there heads and nodded. There status limitless in there pursuit for the purpose placed before them. For again I would eventually caress my covers in a tired limbo of cash and properties within my head. Drifting off to sleep I would be ready to beckon there blackened purpose for me. A dark chill of intentions branded upon my unseen heartbeat. That face again would stifle the moaning of fluidity in an ethereal constant. Luring and enchanting my insides like a poison that gleams in the glass before its sweet nectar renders you unconscious. I would dream of her again motionless in all of her sorrow. A walking nightmare entangled upon leeches and roses.. Alone in sadness and empathy. Waiting for me.

Eternal.