The crumbling body cheering from beneath the dirt. Deep within the earths core, an orchestra plays to the choir. They were spying, even on my dreams. Spying on my every heart beat. Faster and faster, they drove me insane. Band aids protecting my bloody passion. Even on the thirteenth day, heavens gates were closed. Now what's left is only these bones. No flesh to spare Not a fires flare. Now i am dirt. Mistaken. Now death is what i dance to. A horror of nightingales. I remember the maze of gardens and monster sculptures made of flowers. Flesh that wrinkled and smells that were sour. The countless walks and battles conquered. Only a memory of my crumbled body.
Oh the sound of a thousand crickets. Soothing to the ear. Saving of the soul. A soldier trampled out of his tent to listen closer. To absorb the crickets roar. Suddenly the entire camp exploded behind him. Fire and blood spilled over silence. Just the crickets and the soldiers cry were left to spare. Oh the sound of a thousand crickets. Oh the sound of a thousand crickets.
Thank you to all who inspire, uplift, and keep me going. I hope your days are filled with sunshine or grey skies. Whichever you prefer.... Lots of love and light to all Here is some of me to you