Awkward silence, mortuary smell, of death and sorrow.
Someone’s self torn into million bleeding shreds. A soul trampled down on the
hard, cold, concrete floor. The sky melting. Walls turning into ashes. Dripping
bones, handcuffed ribs, intoxicated lungs. A vortex of remains, wreckage and
dirt. Thoughts hanged from the stones of our wrists. A dark shade of purple, a
pale shade of blue. Branches covered in mud, boiling suns, wind scattering
flesh.
Carnage not of
humans but of humanity in its most singular sense.
