|
Post by NobodyWeirdLikeMe on Jul 21, 2009 19:44:55 GMT -5
The dreary pebble beach marched toward the bloody sunset. The still was peaceful. The silence violent in it's absurdatity. There were no gulls, no childrens shrieks, no sigh of water where tide and shore meet. Only the vast and stunning vista unfolding before me like a cheap magicians trick. Afraid to look too close unless the magic slips, And time rips and changes away from this. This seemed to have some secret yet to present. Frothing with desire the waves retreat, then push back hard and ascend the beach. The chaos of swirling and churning tide proceeded only to subside. Then press again; Towards where I saw a baby's crib stuck fast in sand, It's wooden feet now licked and lapped by waves desiring to drag it in, Back to where the beasts white and foaming maw crested greedily, ready to devour all before. I scrambled forward then saw with horror, that beneath me was no pebble beach. But a myriad of glass eyes; worn by the persistent action of the tide. These were no rocks; only twisted plastic corpses with blank accusing sockets. The seaweed; ripped and shredded clothes no longer used to adorn the dolls. And as a backdrop to this graveyard for those never alive. The sun set soft, with butterfly hues. I started awake. Answerless.
|
|
|
Post by Hermit on Jul 26, 2009 6:17:49 GMT -5
This piece is outstanding .. You have really grown. awesome
|
|
|
Post by NobodyWeirdLikeMe on Jul 29, 2009 15:55:54 GMT -5
I really am rusty. But thank you. It's the first thing I've written in a little under two years I think.
|
|