T
literature

The black city

sunlightdrop's avatar
By sunlightdrop   |   
1 0 77 (1 Today)
Published:
The city, the city is restless, voices are bouncing, bouncing back and for.
Hurry, hurry up. Run .Fast, faster.
The city is unrest, unsettled, noises are buzzing, like a destroyed beehive.


Black, black is falling from the sky, gobbles up everything it came in contact with. Black, black is everywhere. Hurry, hurry up. Run. The Voices are urgent it, to run, run away. And there's no one here, but this is the city , so why....

Everything was wrong. Black, deep black liquid is pouring down from somewhere above, drop by drop, consuming, hungry for a meal.
Run, voices are rushing, was it always like this, the voice - the city is - screaming, yelling, crying restless.
Run. There were sounds, of things took impact against things, but it doesn't make sense, there was no one here. Bodies sank inside the inky black of what used to be the river. Feet against cement, people run, run away from an unavoidable ending.The black water sloshes, dying the air with its dead odor. Run. The city is in a state of unrest.

Yet there was ...

Crimson flashed in the monochrome world. Laughter drowns in the endless sea of screams. The sighing of bells drifts over the rushing current.Fresh scent of an unnamed flower snaking through the air. Slowly, ever so slowly, Time coming to a standing still.

disjointed melody in the air.

Follow me, follow me, listen to the sound of my voice singing.
Follow me, follow me, listen to the sound of my bells sighing.
Down this road, up this hill. Follow me closely but just enough.
Hide behind that slope, peek around this corner. Let me lead you to the world beyond.
This lantern is to guide you in the darkness
This clock is to keep track of time for you
Careful, don't stray your attention. This corner is not one that you should look.


The honey from this broken hive is a delicacy. A city swamped with buzzing noises.
Feet against cements, screams upon cries.
Would you care for some its worth to die for
It was, after all, a city that coated with sins.


It was here, in the circle around this corner. The sound of a bell sighing can still be heard, in the dried up color of passion splashed against cement, painting portrait of an unnamed flower. An unlit lantern and an immobile clock, laid forgotten in a corner of the black city.

From dust we return , to the lines that bound us. Chained, inside this never-ending game, we wait.
© 2011 - 2020 sunlightdrop
And everything is covered by a black screen
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