Tell No Tale

The end of things is the expected death of the soul. Something fades and all of a sudden you're in the fog that gives and takes life. You wish to see it wither, you wish it'd last long after the buildings and the concrete that surrounds you. You're framed by your expectations. One way or another you lose. 

A shadow stands in the middle of the street. The fog covers all and the light is dim. Still the little girl approaches, curiosity conquering the fear. The shadow mumbles something to the air.

- The lines intertwine and form a knot. There's no logic in this. What's the purpose? There's nowhere to go, nothing to follow...

- Hello. Are you lost?

Two white spheres fly around the seemingly round shape of the shadow, finally stopping as if forming two lines looking straight at the little girl. It sees the shape of a little human, hood over the head protecting the head from the falling snow and the cold, gloves on her hands that so strongly hold and protect the brow teddy bear that protects the little girl. The two spheres fly over the shape and scrutinize the little girl.

- An anomaly. A strange anomaly. Hello, little girl. Are you lost?

- No, I live here right there. You're strange. Are you lost?

- Not lost. Confused maybe. Is this life?

- Of course it is, silly. The moon, the starts, the light, even the fog. But the fog is scary.

- Really? I find such a fog a rare comfort in my travels. Would you be kind enough explain to me life?

- Life is a camp of flowers, it's sleeping in bed with teddy, it's looking at the stars at night.

- I heard you only live once.

- Yes, but once it starts it's forever.

The shadows lost its round shape and took on the form a tall human.

- I'm puzzled. How can it be forever?

- Because in life you find one love. Once you love it's forever. And if you lose it, well, then you're really dead. For life without love is impossible.

- Does it hurt?

- Life? No. Love? My mommy says that sometimes yes, other times no. But she always loves me. Death is the worst though.

- And how do you know you're alive?

- Because I love my teddy. He's my best friend. He's warm at night and he's kind to me and he never hits me back if I hit him. He's always there for me, no matter how much I hurt him.

- I see. I am not dead then. For I love something. But I seemed to have reached a point of no return where I can never get it back.

- Why not?

- I don't grasp it completely. But it seems to be one of those grown-up things where if you love it you have to let it go.

- That's stupid.

The shadow seemed to look at the girl with a startled look. The spheres flew over to its back and he mumbled on.

- Not an anomaly. It's but the cold grasp of death pulling me nearer to its side.

With this it disappeared into the fog as if it had been nothing but a strange dream, a tale you should never tell.

Fight Again

Goodbye to the remnants of my day,
All is lost and by the wind blow away.

Vanity has fallen pray to the decay
That sways the truth behind the veil.

Bothersome to think why,
To find the reasons for this goodbye.

If questions remained the cold has kept the voices still
And removed from the soul and body its will.

I designed this truth, analyzed it plenty,
Convinced myself of its truth and bent it,
Distorted it, accepted it, led it astray.

Hello to the night that still remains,
Came the cold and made it gold, now it maintains,
Moved mountains and planted trees in the sea
Nothing makes any more sense to me.

All the logic means nothing when shuttering in the cold we find the fire to fight again.

Porcupine Tree - Trains

I can ride with the flow

I can ride with the flow,
Absorb the pain, nice and slow,
In a dark, twisted rhythm.
Following the internal stream,
Feeling the water but not the seam
Getting lost amidst the rushing waters.

Getting ready to descend,
I've done everything but pretend,
But now I consider the implications.
Falling deeper down,
In some time I'll drown,
Thinking of what's left to be said.

Can't help but feeling sad
I try hard and stretch my hand
But you're no longer there to grab it.
Vanishing, eyeing the darkness,
Greeting it, getting lost in its vastness
I feel its friendliness. Greets me with a cold hold.

Queens Of The Stone Age - Go With The Flow

Transcended

Half-hidden in the fog the bridge draws near. Next to it a figure stands, face half hidden by a hood, half shown by the candle in her hand. Blonde hair, sly smile, something perverse to be seen in her face. Her eyes are the calm of a breeze but I'm feeling the adventure of the shadows. Something's lurking near by. She takes my hand and makes a run for it. When we're in the clear we stop to look at the Moon and awe at its beauty. We transcend. By the time we come back we're surrounded by the onlookers in the shadows - they're afraid of the light. Nothing else to do. All that's left is love.

Soundgarden - 4th Of July 

The Other - day five

The summer sun glowed all day. Even now, during the night, the heat waves rule unanswered, taking little drops of sweat for a ride on the skin. I see the moon shine on the other's skin as the night sinks in. She's sleeping. For now I lay awake thinking of the future. Little concerns me. It's all drawn up. The problems of the past are exactly that: of the past. Right now I have the other. And with this thought in mind I let my head hit the pillow and my eyes close. It's time to say goodnight.

Down in the Gutter - day four

Winter's come and the window's open,
By now all the food as gotten rotten,
I find myself looking at a wall and smiling,
Even though at the same time I'm crying.
She left a note with the moving men,
She'd be gone and we'd never be together again,
I feel the cold that chills my bones
Doesn't come from the winter, comes from being alone.
The dog sighs and lies down,
On his face just a frown,
I wish to be kept in silence
But the neighbours and my doorbell have an alliance.
By now Winter has conquered all,
The snow came and covered the Fall,
I enjoy the little words I mutter
From the tip of the bottle to the bottom of the gutter.

Shades - day three

I dared see the sun today. Got out of that stuffy apartment, full of dust and memories. Took the dog for a walk, saw girls running. Not a bad day overall. Came back home and closed the shades.
I got a letter saying she moved, she had gone away to another country. With the note came a picture of us, smiling happily in on of our first dates. Of our secrets, of our inside jokes, not a trace.
I kept the shades closed and looked at the darkness. My mind was as blank as my heart. I needed her. I still do.

Space - day two

Everything feels the same but different. The colours on the walls, the display of the house - all remains intact. Of course the curtains have fallen by now. I've come to realize that in time everything will change. New furniture will come, the old will be gone, I might even move. But the deep dark memories will remain so long as the walls keep standing. Though these walls may stand, my mind keeps crumbling.

She's been gone for a week now. I woke up this morning thinking it was all a bad dream. Turned to my side, tried to smell her hair, kiss her forehead, smile at her and say good morning. But there was nothing there but a pillow and more space. I fucking hate the space. How cold can one person be? Even in the summer an empty bed seems like winter. And as Bill Withers once said, ain't no sunshine when she's gone. Through all these shitty days I've sought reason. I've found nothing. I've fought with myself just to feel her here. I dared myself to jump on to the street and meet someone, talk to a human being. But then she's no ordinary human being. She's the one that makes me smile while she makes me cry.

I'm convinced that time's passing by. I can see it in my watch, even in the microwave. I can see it in the dog as he runs around the apartment whining and crying. He misses his mother. I miss her too. Her warmth, her smile, her enthusiasm. I know where I went wrong. I went wrong in going right. I stayed for her. I should've gone for me. Maybe it'd be better for us. Now I'm stuck and we're faded. I'll do my best to be happy. Maybe that'll bring her to me. I tear a piece of paper and write on it: 'I feel your sadness from here.' I set it on her pillow and fall back asleep.

Bill Withers - Ain't No Sunshine

Solemn

Thine heart is but a frail display of a spring morning.
The Sun shines through the morrow, piercing the designs of malice
Brought by the night, a shadow that serves as warning,
Cast over the people of this fine land, from lord to novice.
Beauty is the sign of the coming of your smile,
Enlightening the day, expanding the rays of the sun.
Inviting is the breast decided to keep me a while,
Warm are the tights that my spirit has won.
Your silky white skin, so soft the touch,
One seems to be able to feel the clouds high in the sky.
But I do despair. Remains untouched the wild inside,
That residual feeling of falling, waking empty.
Fearing, grasping for something
Your vision hunts me, your heavenly figure besides me in bed
Makes me struggle out of my sheets, 
Run to the door, have it open and with a sigh acknowledge
That you've gone away again for the day.
Bring forth the wine, I want to feel spirited again,
Race through tavern, stumble on the rocks on the floor
On my way back home, ignoring the whores on the street,
Those bosoms that jump and wiggle like their fake smiles.
Through the darkness I see your figure
Through those dark alleys I follow you
Only to see under the light of the streetlight
That you're holding another men with a ring on your left hand
And a smile on your face.
Of this life I can face no further
For I can't have you then life will have me no longer.

In the open - day one

The door was left open. After all the shouting came the silence. She went away. I've considered leaving myself. But then who'd watch the dog? His expression is solemn. He senses the death of me.

The shock is strong. It's all pretty much done. I've began to search an answer. But there's no question. It's not a problem with a solution. It's a resolution. It's corrosive and my mind is already melting. I take a look around the room. I take a walk around it. Round and round I go. The dog comes with me. I lie down while the room spins. Everything's here except her. And she's everything. I look at the door again. Still open. Outside it's dark. The air smells the death of me.

Alive and well I look out the window into the open. Missing her by my side I still feel her touch. Wanting her by my side I still fantasize with her big brown eyes looking at me tenderly. Realistically I know that they won't be coming back to this house any time fast. I'm spent. All the energy has been drawn. It's still early in life to give up. But life is all but meaningful when you let something so beautiful and deep get away. I'll live under the sun while drinking from the darkness. The dark feels the death of me.


Disturbed - Forsaken

The builder

The builder died. Of all the buildings he built, of all the bricks he laid, the tower where he lived was the last to crumble. In his walls hung the pictures of his legacy. Smiling faces and fading memories, nothing could burn except the last image of his dead body in the memory. That remains printed for the world to see if the world is daring enough to open the conscience of a damaged animal and take a look inside.
A pyre was lit, chantings throughout the land echoed, people marched out from their houses to see a fire burn higher than the sun. Night became day. What was called the grim hour became the time to celebrate. Life was honoured. If the silence was patronage, his life was the secret that the wind carried on its shoulders. All around the village the wind spread and carried word of his passing. And his people, who owed him so much, carried their last goodbye in a rainy afternoon.