Mirroring Wings

Mirroring Wings

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Jun 18, 2018
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Fiction
Fantasy
Dream by A.H. By the grave I saw the illusions I crave the imaginary, ideal idol And the certainties never stargazing And its eyes have all the mythologise And so you came gently giggling All my soul within me wiggling All my soul within me giggling My trick, I could not awaken Eagerly I looked for the dreamer My mind always strays to fictions I discovered the nightmares In there stepped an individualist 'unworldliness' Quoth the sleeplessness, 'Don't go downstairs!' The superciliousness brought such sorrow The heaven brought such sorrow My sleepiness, I could not awaken Instead I uncovered the idealist The dread dreamer dozing The amour never disclosing Much I marvelled the apolitical irrationalism That pacifist, pacifist lionising Take thy lover from out my heart And so you came gently hissing How they were dismissing, reminiscing - kissing And so you came gently thumping Ah, distinctly I was sleeping Quoth the beloved, 'Don't go weeping!' My hell, I could not awaken I crave the magic, morphean moon The winsomeness brought such sorrow You warned me about the high noon Take thy springsteen from out my heart Take thy concert hall from out my heart My mind always strays to nightmares With apologies to Edgar Allan Poe. Special thanks to @DorkyMuffins for helping me come up with certain names for places and characters, and for proofreading each chapter before I publish it.
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A happy childhood, a so-so adolescence. Then adulthood arrived, and everything went to hell. And by everything, I mean it. Grown-up life is truly a wonderful, dazzling adventure! A job that drains your soul, stripping away any will to live while fueling a more or less justified homicidal instinct; depression knocking at the door with a lovely bouquet of red roses and, last but not least, the remnants of a social life buried somewhere under my shoes. Not the ones I'm wearing now; those are slippers, big difference. I mean the pretty ones in the cabinet that I haven't touched in five years. Love can be destructive. It catches you, ensnares you, devours you, and if you're unlucky enough, it leaves you standing in nothing but your underwear before reducing you to ashes. I had made peace with my "and she lived single, forever unhappy but safe" fate. A house, one, four, eight, maybe twenty cats and a future as flat as a heart monitor that's given up the ghost. No joys, minimal suffering, because there's only so much a heart can take before it calls it quits. And honestly? Fuck it, I'd been through enough. ... But he changed everything. In the worst, most terrifying way possible. From this abyss, I may never climb back out.

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