She who is blind and he whose sight has seen unspoken horrors.
It is he whose eyes shine with the blood of those who've passed.
It is his hands that have taken pain away but a touch that means darkness.
He whose name taste of poison on innocent lips...
When it's blown to pieces, that's when it becomes art.
Creativity comes from the unhinged, the insanity of the beast that is our unchained selves.
It's not something you can stop, like the blood in your veins, it's on a nonstop cycle.
art is a demon; messy and unpredictable.
But its meanings were endless and almost impossible for it to become meaningless. As the world evolved and changed so did the meaning of artworks.
If only the same could be said for words.
Words that use to be so beautiful in comparison to the sunset. Have now lost meaning, serving only to fill gaps between hellos and goodbyes, they're sentimentality lost among the lies that their force to tell.
The best lies are those webbed through truthful words. Unrecognizable until there revealed, only when you're already wrapped in silk, no longer posing the strength to run away.
Despite the sight we possess, we are spoon-fed lies like we're blind.
Endless promises that are easily washed away by the slight hint of temptation.
It was words that Clare no longer trusted but words came from the lips of people, and Clare couldn't help but be skeptical of all those who walked her way. because in the end even those who love you, lie to you.
***
Taking a breath in, felt like drowning in a pool of acid. Each particle of air that filled my lungs seemed to bring a lingering feeling of pain, that had no end. I guess this was what it felt like to die.
Each second stretched into an endless moment as the frail sheets of the universe were ripped out from beneath my feet, dragging me deeper and deeper into the silencing darkness.
Despite the heaviness of my bones, my body fought relentlessly to be dragged under the dark blue covers of the ocean, unhurried to reach the bottom.
As I stared up at the sun rays that shimmered in the folds of the ocean's waves, I could sense life slipping from the tips of my fingers, slowly, as if time was almost teasing at my heart's deep desire for peace.
Swimming above me, the sun's rays had morphed into a mimicking silhouette of my very own reflection.
A replica of me in every way yet there laid a distinct difference within her eyes. They were paralyzed by fear, her body, left unmoving in its horror-ed state.
What should have been piercing amber orbs, where mixed in a mess of confused black, glowing in the midst of it all a death-ing red, that seemed to pour down her soft cheeks like tears.
It was then that I notice her outstretched hand as if reaching out for something behind me.
My body sliced through the water as I spun around to see what it was that had captured my reflection attention.
And that was when I saw it. The shadow pushing through the darkened waters, making its way up towards me.
My body trembled as I came face to face with Death.
***
Time freezes as I stared into his eyes which spoke of centuries of agony and passing. You could almost sense the grief that they held.
Flooded by emotions, as my mind all of a sudden drifted away from me as if my soul was parting my body. Before I knew it I had drifted into darkness.
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