Feelings

This is darkness,

Desolate wasteland with skeletal trees,

I stand waiting, shin deep in the cold unloving spite.


You are there, dressed as an angel, unloving, uncaring, unfeeling.

You hold in your hand, in the stillness of nothing, that shiny piece of art. Crafted by a machine, invented by man.

There is nothing but you dressed in white, your silky robes hang still in the windless nothingness.

Blood red skies no longer burn with a passion.

They dont even simmer.

You look up from your hooded features and level your hand at me.

I cant even smile. I feel the numbness swallow me up. My heart weeps but my eyes; my cheeks are dry.

You pull the trigger.

For the first time since you cratered our very existance. I feel somthing in my chest. The cold unloving spite swallows me up. My blood cast upon the ground...seeping, weeping...into the unfeeling earth.