Speaking to the subconscious...
In a language as forlorn as our ancestors unearthed civilizations.
Forgotten in time,
Forgotten by those that knew them too.
The words in an unknown dialect of a forgotten language,
Striking a chord.
Shattering the deception, in the wake of this great quake
This, the elders watch from above.
With fear creeping along their spine, for they know the reverberations are advancing towards the ground beneath their feet...
En route for the City of Atrocity.
Tremors shaking the weakening, precious, boulders...those keeping them on the high ground of the cliffs...
En route for the City of Atrocity.
Reminiscence...
Facade distorting but never breaking under the weight of the truth seekers, for unbeknownst to them is the existence of the utter solitude of their path...
Shameful are the tribal elders to the ancient’s dream of posterity.
The infection, that of your own soul...
The infection that is you...
The infection, that is your soul...
Leading to the mutation of an infectious strain.
Breathing the cold air of death,
Leaving behind its unforgettable stain.
Eternally etched in memories.
Rise and fall,
Time has come and gone...
Watching now from above.
Looking down on those hiding in the shadows,
Watching the consequences of their actions from afar.
Becoming a forgotten memory...
Lost in time.
Author notes
It's missing something, not quite tied together or not correctly i don't think.
Written July 23rd, 2006
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