echoes

alone in the barren waste
a tortured spirit that he is
crying out to nothingness
waiting for death to take him
a scarred heart but not broken
he must continue on
the path that is laid,
is a road of remains
blood is coming from the heavens
his stomache growls
like a hungry wolf
ready to devour
and yet he still moves
continues a never ending trail
until he sees a shimmering glitter in the distant
it calls to him
and he goes, with a heavy breath he goes
the air is putrid with smell
like a holocaust of decay
at last he found it
a bastion of hope in a place of terror
a house built of sweets
as if it was alive the doors open
beckoning him to come
a warm greeting he reckons
until he met two eyes
blood red with stare
he enters, destiny forbid
for when the doors close
eternally there he remains
and only an echo if you would open your ears
you would hear cries
in a distant
slowly fading with the wind



a tyrant rules
in a land where the echoes are carried
a people hungry with death
they pray that it finds them
yet it does not
a father stares out in his home
he seeks refuge from what he sees
where the rats rule the streets
and beggars litter
like christmas ornaments
stuck on a wilted tree
and he looks on with hope and despair
his wife, pleads to him
but her voice is swallowed
by his eyes
the look of desperation
and he decided
that what he must do he must
it is for the better his mind says
but his heart refuses
and so he looked upon
his two children, carefree in their sleep
a boy and a girl he carries them in his sandpaper arms
gently like the caress of a loving mother he carries them
and traveled beyond
beyond the screams of empty quietness
until he founds the place
where society and nature meets
with a heavy heart and foot
he marches on
until the ancient trees closes in
and he could not march anymore
it is a place
where even darkness runs away
where the eyes is of no use
and he drops them
his precious ones
and retraces his steps
without turning his back
a distant sob echoes
in the distant
slowly fading with the screams

the boy wakes
jolted up and he wakes
he nudged his little sister
and they both rise up from their slumber
they knew all along
about their father's intention
as dark as the crow it may seem
they did not understand the reason why
so the boy plots
in his mind he would rid himself of this man
his mind plays a play
where he would betray his own
and murder him in his sleep
stab his father in the face
so no one would ever recognize
the man who abandoned his little ones
but first he must find a way home
like migrating birds he must
of a way he devised
long before he arrived in this place
where even the king of beasts cowers
he would find his way home
stashed in his pocket
are little pebbles where he
dropped them and he would follow
retrace his steps as his father did
he looked at his sister
his heart filled with demons
hell bent on extinguishing his father's existence
he stared with malicious contempt
he did not want any burden
so he grabbed his sister
chocked her, yet she did not scream
and as her essence leaves her body
her eyes wide open, his hands released
her stare as cold as ice
it shook the little boy
and so he plucked them out
with his little fingers he took out her eyes
his hands red with his sister's blood
and he marches on
not turning his back ever
a grin on his face as blood trickles down his mouth
with nothing but an echo
slowly fading with the trees

the little boy
still trodding footsteps
he marches on for what seems like
eternity
days gone by
many nights
a barren waste he finds himself
where even grass is afraid to grow
he would devour anything to fullfill his belly
he even resorted to his own fingers
and ripped his own ears
and drank his own blood
out of desperation
until he sees it
in the distant, like a star he sees it
with every ounce of energy he runs to it
and at long last he comes at its doorstep
a little house built of sweets
as if it was alive the doors open
beckoning him to come
a warm greeting he reckons
until he met two eyes
blood red with stare
and he smiled
for what he sees is his sister
and he comes in
and as the door closes
never to open again
you could the screams
in a distant
slowly fading with the wind

of the news of the man
who abandoned his younglings
nobody has ever heard from him
for he never returned
and nobody bothered to look for him
but some say that he walks the barren waste
a tortured spirit that he is
and some say that he found his place
in a house built of sweets
and if you would open your ears
you would hear
slowly fading with the wind
echoes