Musings

17 - Sick

I coughed.
Dense black smoke wrapped itself around us
Getting thicker, heavier, suffocating
As we trudged towards the source of it all
The all seeing castle in a dead field.

It was my first time seeing the castle
That the seniors seldom whispered about,
That kept them shaking and mumbling at night,
That made them lose all blood
As they glued their eyes into the ground
Whenever I asked what it was about.

Unsteady legs marched on
Even as my curiosity was strangled
By the domineering smoke.
I gradually lost warmth the closer I got
Until I was completely frozen.
Once we arrived at our destination
I only realised then
What I had been inhaling.

I struck the shovel into the dirt
Eyes glued into the ground
Blood leaving my face
Like the decayed flower
That stared back at me.

The siren echoed across the field
And we continued our march
Towards the grey, metallic castle
Our carts dragging slowly behind us
Filled with indistinguishable sludge
Stems, petals, branches, seeds, buds
Stuck out, dangled, fell off
Along with our little red trails.

Then, there it was
The humming gates of the castle itself
Breathing out hell
Sending shivers and headaches
Blanketing its visitors in dark delirium
As we fed it of what remained.
And it chewed loudly
Black stains around its mouth
Hot stench echoing around me
Again, I coughed.