Offensive, foul, the first and final word,
Tyrannical, extreme in every tense,
Betrayer of incompetence, when heard
It ridicules rejection, drowns defence.
A shiv to slice the centre of the soul,
A dagger to the worst, the hardest heart,
Defiantly imposing cold control,
It strikes before insurgency can start.
Malevolent, a murderer of dreams.
A syllable to shatter, never mend.
As absolutely certain as it seems.
Definitive denial to the end.
More meaning is impossible to throw.
To hear it is to feel its fury: no.
Road of the Mystic Monkey, Prologue by GooseHudson, literature
Road of the Mystic Monkey, Prologue
As if she was led by an invisible trail, the hooded primate with the enormous box on her back wandered the outskirts of the city, her eyes on the ground in front of her and her hands tightly gripping the box’s shoulder straps. Onlookers were amazed at her balance and strength, save for the few monkeys that would sneakily escape into alleys when she walked past. Dockworkers who were in the middle of their smoke break through their cigarettes into the trash to jump back to work, less their foreman decide they could all be replaced by this hooded stranger. She paid them no mind. She had a job to do and wasn’t about to let a distraction get in her way. Every intersection she would come to would lead her to stop and close her eyes, waiting for the next set of directions to come to her. The mental path led her away from the docks, away from the inviting food stands, and away from all the taller buildings. She found herself in front of a warehouse, loud cheers audible from behind the large