e/n

[Sepia]

Sink thine roots deep says the master, sink thine roots deep and let them drink, let the harvest of hearts show the world how we built our world, this world, separated from theirs, reality and all its facets, all the torrents, the chaos and the order. People are arguing in the streets, violent cries heard ricocheting, we try to scream more and louder we try, our hands are shaking while we tell the stories of life, nervousness and insecurity travel from our spine permeating every part of our selves, bubble-shaped forms connecting souls and dreams, we used to be brighter, we used to be more than this but the shadows claw at us as age becomes the enemy

Our lips form questions but they fall before the leave us, leave our mouths and minds empty and dry like a late indian summer, dried out grass underneath our feet, rasping like like old men telling dying stories, crow's feet baking under this pale dying sun, chirrups, crickets screaming with their dying legs, a cry for help as they slit the veins in their legs and take one too many

We lack the calm we should have had (by now), we feel antsy and lost, staring into a darkness we've seen so many times before, a withering vortex clinging to us and we travel with it through the darkened lands prophesized by the master