LIVE AT THE WITCH TRIALS
The Spectacle claimed all.
It came through our windows and washed away everything.
Everyone I’d ever known...
Gone.
A slow fade-out.
A lost war against invisible entities.
I wanted them to know.
Wanted them to see the truth.
These things I could never describe.
But they were too far gone.
Blinded by antagonisms birthed at the lowest possible point.
The jagged poetry of their petty opinions.
Cut deep.
A haze of noise froths up about me.
A feeling.
A void.
The Spectacle—No.
I’m loosing mind again.
Each word separates and floats about me in this new world.
I keep rambling, but this decaying neon.
It never ends.
It judges me.
Like I’m on some sort of...
I saw someone.
In slumber, last night.
Flesh wandering a translucent flight.
It spoke in voice delicate as still water.
But before I could decipher what it spoke of.
It dissolved into the dream-tide.
As I awoke, a phrase echoed in my mind.
“Dismal land of the bodiless women and men”
What that means I am yet to know.
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