Topic started by Joe Pilgrim (@ webcacheh11a.cache.pol.co.uk) on Thu Dec 11 20:23:51 EST 2003.
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Diabolical endings, tired ideas to be replenished infinitely... The day comes, he blinks, sits up and with that, he has awoken!...
He glances out the disillusioned window and steals a quick peek at the eternal phoenix; the sun that chases the moon that chases the sun, abandoning the heavens, only to be reborn again the next day.
He wishes to kill that sun. All of the wars on Earth have been faught under that sun. That sun is the keeper of this merciless planet's people, and for that, it should be destroyed.
His eyes fill with the blood only anger could deliver. Past memories circle his head, patronising while cinester. He falls back, but instead of falling upon the bed he woken. He starts to sink, quickening now, he starts to panic, the room goes dark...the sirens are going...he tries to regain his composure.
Hes melting upon this sun, its beating him, hes going now, fading away. With that theres an all mighty flash! Silence...
And then his head rises, slowly, like the sun his so badly despises. Expecting to find himself in another world, he is shocked when he hears the comforting din of a classroom. It was only a dream. But now his eyes hurt...
They begin to burn, eating away at his nerves. His blue skys fill with water. He hears chanting, "Daveys cryin, Daveys cryin". Over and over again, he shakes his head. They wont go, this infernile racket continues! He's breathing heavy now, heart pumping. And again, like before, sudden, silence...
He smells the smoke now Sulfery ash His hands are wet with his own blood .Who has done this thing? who is it that holds the gun..
Is it he who moralises them, that will reach an unforseen twist of events? His hands are red and raw. But his time is swiftly cascading into a pit of ablivion. Only he can realise his true pertential. The time has come, he must go now, and alone, thats sure. But not all paths lead to this sun, its through death alone can he realise his dreams and be reborn.
Again a shot rings out and then once more,The sun burns red .His blood tasts or copper,salt and iron even this blood will not puge his thirst his toungue feels.
He looks around, but to no avail. There is no one but himself, imprisoned in this world of unforseen doings. A third and final shot is fired, it is his chest that is dying his rags this time. His hands are filled with murder, for it his he who bears the gun.
His hands trimbel as he drops the gun to the sticy black top ,,Why had he done this? what was his crime? Falling to his knees he pleads to unforgiving sun. No one comes ,No one cares.. these streets drank far too much others blood to mine or mark a stain for him he will pass unnoticed,unsung,unansweared.
He is overwhelmed by the enormosity of the red sun. The high lord has sent him along the long, windy path of death. The ground shakes beneath him, judgement day has come. The mortals are to be judged, his turn has come...
With the rising of the lands, the floods start to swirl, capturing the shining of the sun. It surrounds the brass, rusting the ball. He watches as the world is swallowed within itself. Twisting and turning, the world rolled over itself and within seconds, it was gone! He had been saved, for it was the judger who had been judged, moralised and destroyed in its own filth.
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