Voices of the Unheard

The Hustle

[The Hustle]

While roaming the streets during the morning a life was lost, laying on the floor was a man without his soul and the blood rushed as though it was a steady flow of water gushing from the sink. Going on with your day like it didn't phase you, it couldn't phase you. The possibility of thinking about that other person; the man who was taken from life without a calming good bye. He was a passing thought of his taker; the fallen angel of darkness tearing apart this man's flesh to get to the soul. The last thing this man saw was the floor and felt a blade to the heart; choking on his own blood as he remembers his life as he slowly dies. This all happened while people just walked by, the passing faces of the people as you walk by; all you hear are sighs.

-L