Humanity has mastered the art of self destruction, I wonder when was it that we forgot how the world is precariously balanced and why it was that way.
The bones of our society quiver under the false laws they've made, forgetting they were only playing at god.
They sew their souls to their bodies with threads from their bible of fear, and smile while they drown themselves in the coagulation of society.
Babes born already tired of this world of worn down and faded chaos, the parking lot slowly fills with water and the people you see down there aren't drowning they have just stopped swimming. Faces float to the surface.
We changed our world to reflect what we want to be, but animals will still fear the cages they built themselves.
Humans shoving our filthy hands into frothing mouths to jerk off our tongues, spilling words of intolerance.
Mankind scavenging the carcass of the world as the wild animals that we no longer deserve to call ourselves.
The Earth cups her swollen gut, born of the putrescence of man,
the old gods no longer need to make demands of sacrifice, for we slaughter ourselves at their feet.
Mother oak, once adorned in bells and strings of red drinks the blood that is soaking into the ground.
But we are creatures of mirth and madness, driven by desire and fear we will puke our guts of gluttony just to make room for more.
We reach into the ground, having taken all that we could steal from each other, our hands are wet and slick, faces messy, elbow deep in her chest cavity.
Beasts gorging ourselves as we greedily drink her blood with lapping tongues and wild eyes, smearing mud across our mouths, the clay is red for a reason.
We crawl in and hide things inside her, where we think they won't be found and wipe our vicious palms on someone else's skin.
But even as you deny your involvement there are stains upon you and they know what you did, they were watching.
I curl up and watch the oil in my stomach crawling up my throat, silencing me, a child of want and distant yearning weeping into the indifference of the universe.
The stars will look down at us in passive watchfulness, eyes nihilistic and cold, they do not understand our fear of death, for they died long ago.
I will go and sit with them up there and turn my eyes away from my own existence, to sigh unperturbed into the abyss, I am so very tired of watching all of this.
Mankind is so proud, congratulating each other on the invisible boxes we set in place to quantify that which we know nothing of.
We think ourselves to great, that our might and madness is too vast and untamed that we quell in fear at our own feet to beg forgiveness.
But even as our cacophony of existence causes our eardrums to burst and bleed in it's inescapable deafening roar, in the vastness of the sky all is silent, not a whisper escapes the wall of our atmosphere.
For all our boasts and rage wrought from the need for recognition, the stars will pay no mind, they do not care, they cannot hear us.
OC CONTEST: win a tablet+more CLOSED:iconrainbow-cplz::iconrainbow-oplz::iconrainbow-nplz::iconrainbow-tplz::iconrainbow-eplz::iconrainbow-splz::iconrainbow-tplz:
Edit: The contest ended, results are here
Who have stared their entry but didn't finish until the deadline, contact me so we could do an art trade then!
Theme:
You have to make an artwork of any of my characters listed below.
Whole information about them are in descriptions, so read them not to do any mistakes.
If you have questions about characters, your entries/ideas, or need my help, ask!
Danila
Timėja more of her
Argerii more of him
Luka
Rise with me, your armor assume,
And we will all the fury consume,
That ditches and stones, drills, and shields,
Swords, or heavy breathing does yield.
And we will storm across the moat,
Watching water boil where dead float,
By swords end they heavily fall,
To answer the Valkyries call.
Blood colours the fields as roses,
Warriors rise in bold poses,
With cloaks of gold and eyes of black,
Raging against the hearts they lack.
They woo maidens in gowns of silk,
With sweetest words and their soft ilk,
But while their words do taste of gold,
The beds in which they lie are cold.
Then in the halls of light we feast,
And do roar as triumphant beasts,
Where in the heat of battle fire,
Cleanse the black hearts in which we mire.
Yet at the end, in fields of dead
Do I kneel with heavy a head,
For t’was I who called you amiss,
Now your cold lips, I gently kiss.