True Evil

“True evil has a face you know and a voice you trust.”
“The tiniest movements are so detailed, but the biggest movements are what matters. Like a willow flows gracefully dances in the wind, I don’t but try to stay grounded.”he said to me in a spine-shivering whisper. I tried to deny looking at him, but it was just too tempting like a Greek monster I once read about in a book long ago. Most fear him, but they don’t know he’s unbalanced.
It all started when I was knelt down and my hands crossed trying to be respectful visually, but on the inside, I was just staring into space thinking of what would happen next in the book that had so many pages, it seemed it would never end. I tried to stay focused, but it was too hard when I kept shivering. At this point, I felt like I could just quietly tip toe out because it was so cold. Then was one of those moments where you’ll have flashback of your childhood when your mother would always remind you to always bring a sweater. Apparently, I still need a reminder. Anyways, I’m going off track with the story, for I don’t have much time.
As I was close to dead cold, a peculiar figure was gazing upon me with a beaded necklace in his hand. He looked at me with sympathy as if he could, read thoughts. But he looked confused as if I were a book that was too complicated for him to ascertain. After a while, he slowly moved from his seat, walked up toe and said, “Here.” He had given me three Hail Marys, but I didn’t know what to pray about. When I looked up to tell him the truth, he was gone. How strange, I thought. Who would just, leave without saying goodbye? Though, I might as well get used to it, for it was the second time that week.
It was now almost over so I headed up to the altar, shedding just one tear, though I wish I shed more, but just one came from my eyes. This was good-bye forever. When I reached the altar, I turned around to see everyone. Fourteen. That’s all who came. My heart had to open up for once and this was the perfect time. I walked to the left up to her trying to speak. “Good bye Mother.”, was all I could get put of me. She would’ve been proud of me though.
When the candles were blown put, it was time to leave. So I slowly gathered up my belongings I brought and headed down the aisle to the doors until a grimy hand covered my mouth and pulled me down to an unspeakable land.
When I could finally see, I saw a very familiar face. It was the man who gave me three Hail Marys. “ Always say your prayers before you go to bed. , he said with dark eyes looking right a at me and he’ll be back if I ever forget; for now I don’t have a mother to remind me anymore.


Always Lost, But Never Found

It was cold and heartless. I couldn’t see anything except my breath; but I knew I wasn’t alone. I felt her breath itch my nose as I tried to stay silent and still. She knew I was there; and at her last breath, she gasped out her last and final words: “Off with her head”. But no one heard her…

Her crown lay on the tiled floor full of blood and sorrow; was never seen or remembered ever again, until now. It lies in every soul full of vain and cruelty and follows you like a guardian devil tempting each and every one of you. She looks into your eyes to this day, but no one ever stops to realize the evilness reflecting upon our blinded eyes.

I ducked down low and crawled through an opening that lead to the worst place possible in their perspective, but simply paradise to ours. Though it cannot deceive you, a true heart will conquer one but misplace their mind. Though it seems foolish, no one could ever suffer as much as he with roof resting upon his head as it sits day after day wondering when the souls will come and release itself from 10/6, from the kettle of tea he never drinks, and the eyes that look, but never see.

“I have absolutely no idea.” were the last words he ever said to me and I never saw him again. It was like he said good-bye, but he never said it was forever. No matter how much you mourn, it doesn’t always work as magic does. Even when magic lives, it knows, but denies your wishes. That’s why we’re not perfect.

I still remember his expression as serious as a funeral for the most beloved child resting in her new forever small home, but as exotic as a mourning full of happiness. The biggest things seem so small when you have it, until you lose it; when it’s too late. I miss my friend, but at the moment, magic is laughing and mocking me as the clock ticks and ticks and ticks until it drives you into a ditch full of insanity and pandemonium.

I continued past the garden of flowers and wondered if I’d ever fit in. Eyes as dark as night, you could see right through them. Finding the smile was harder than it was. His perplexing words displeased many, but not everyone. Finding comfort was difficult, but not impossible, for there is always a crack. That’s how the light gets in. Though his tale was much too cunning; so I continued to carry on my way down the spotted path never looking back. But he was always looking. Forward, backward, up, down, and many other points of view that may not even exist. Like a shadow, he was always watching you.

As I stumbled upon a figure that mesmerized me, but I seemed not to care until one bit of me was in curiosity. Nevermore as a reflection’s lonely eyes be still, two figures are in no doubt a worry, for they are your reflection. A replica known as myself. Thier beady eyes on  the other side, stare right through you and nothing more but a lonely soul. A weeping sorrowful replica. Nothing more. You wonder; you wonder if they’ll ever look away before you do. But it’s always the same until you lose interest and carry on strolling through the forest of unforgotten trees.

  When lost, you’ll one day be found if you keep your head as you await for his wise words to lead you back home before his dimensions change. As you sing an unchanted song when you doze off into a midnight sleep. When you really feel you’re home.

Will We Ever Find It?

Nothing. Such a strange word that hardly any living soul thinks about. Where there isn’t anything. Where you can start over. And try again until you fall into the darkness where there literally isn’t anything, but it’s everywhere, confusing you to think “Isn’t nothing always something?” Though it is almost pointless to try to go deeper into that black hole for we are all destined to never find it and just wither up like a blossoming flower’s petal lushing in the sunshine until he comes.

Never underestimate or criticize him for he has no choice and it is just his job. Many people don’t understand, but he lives within nothing. He romes the earth looking for people to try and interest him in hopes that one of these souls will allow him to remember his days of freedom.

Imagine the universe full of billions of stars. All the same with no difference in them, but out in the distance, is a burning meteorite soaring as if it had wings of fire passing everyone. It isn’t as elegant as everything else, but it still has inner worth and value. It is said almost enough to cover a voice of a life time to not judge a book by its cover. But we do judge the words by its cover. Many times.

Imagine a world without that meteorite. Just the stars. Nothing else. Where everything is the same. No winners. No losers. No judgments…

The truth is that we will never find it, but we all have a purpose and aren’t all just destined to die in the darkness of our world.

The Man With the Broken Heart 💔

It was a dark and dreary day when I was walking along the streets towards Café Salmonella with an umbrella over my head, for I didn’t want to get wet. I recall that I was reciting a poem that I had come up with along the way. Just then, I had stumbled upon a curious wonder, for it was an alley that had a combination of aromas. When I entered it, I smelled a mixture of sorrow and sand , but as I continued my walk through the alley, the aroma changed for it to smell as if I were in a jungle full of reptiles; but there was more. Next, I smelled an old lake full of dead fish and only leeches. A couple more series of aromas continued toward my nose until I reached to a painted symbol of an eyeball at the end of the alley. Below it were three mysterious, confusing, simple words: darling, dearest, dead. I ran my fingers along those three words and finally said them in a whispered hush. I closed my eyes and wondered for a moment why this was happening. Had I gone mad? First I smell 13 aromas in an alley, find a symbol of an eye which I swore had blinked before mine and then see three words below, that all started with “d”. Maybe it was a dream or a vision or a hallucination. Either way, I had no choice to get out of this maze so I was best off enjoy it anyways.

When I opened my eyes I experienced a whole new different setting.  It was chilly, but when I looked down, I saw tiny damp minerals running through my toes as I slightly sunk in. When looking around to view my surroundings, I encountered the sight of three miserable looking souls. The first one that caught my eyes, had a very unusual energy, smelled like lavender, and had calloused fingers as if she was building something. The next spirit seemed to be the most gloomy. I recall he had a book in his hand that said something about marriage rules; and lastly, I came upon a personality so pure and innocent, it was as alluring as a morning glory blooming in early spring.

Just then, they all walked towards a yellow convertible ready to take off to a dreadful place that no one would ever dare to mention. When they approached the deadly chamber, a tall skinny man with black and white striped pants came upon them. There was something extraordinarily curious about this man, for he had a smile as big as a yellow banana.

As the hallucination continued, I discovered that the fruit smiling character was not just unusual but a very insecure man who was full of hatred and revenge; so as a solution he used the greed of money to make himself feel satisfied with his life.

After that, I realized that I was here to try and change that, but unfortunately, I never did for a stubborn heart as strong as this one, may never be healed, for no one has known if this man ever had the tiny bit of love in his heart, but if you ask for a theory, I would say that he was just another normal human being and just had a broken heart.

When I continued towards the café, I finally said my poems based on the friends I made through the actions of my life:

  1. “Why not” is a slogan for a very interesting life.
  2. It’s extraordinary how extraordinary the ordinary person is.
  3. Personality is everything in art and poetry.

Seeing Is Not Always Believing

I was there; when it was cold on the grimy and muggy day of sorrow and depression in the old town of confusion for some have been known to get lost in the maze of the labyrinth. As I crept through all of the unrecognizable twists and turns, I felt as miserable as an orphan without a heart. No one would ever know that I existed if it weren’t for him. Although his name lies in every one of our souls, we may always reject him if we please to. This happens because hardly anyone believes in themselves; only the people with enough courage for millions and not one bit of doubt possessing in their whole body. This teaches us that just because you can’t see something doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.

It was a dark and depressing day when I was joyfully strolling down the sidewalk along Seneca street, December 18th, 1789 A.D.G. Unexpectedly, I stumbled onto a vicious looking vision. It had characteristics that were unexplainable, but unintriguing so I continued on my walk toward the best restaurant in town. Although as soon as I encountered the restaurant, I came upon a man with dark brown hair, wore a suite and had a very different expression compared to others. He had said that all of you had been acting like such fools for the last 1789 years. Though everyone bursted into laughter thinking he was a buffoon (which after all he wasn’t) the man gave up but said, “You may do whatever makes you happy but there is a price, for our world will end soon if you keep this.”, and then he left, and never came back.

That night, I was coming down the hall until I remembered that I left my book of logic in the sharing room so I headed back to get it until I tripped on the mesher and found another unexplainable object but it was smaller than the last.

After a couple of days seeing these objects, I realized that I was the only one noticing them and that they were from what the strange man was talking about. We don’t see any of these things because our society had changed so much that we don’t even see the real truth in the world. So if there is more to the world, where is it? This is what I wanted to prove; so I thought hard to come up with the most reasonable place someone would hide this: the labyrinth.

Sadly, I never did find the evidence but what counts is that I believed in something that wasn’t seekable for I shall never stop believing in my pledges. If you are a person who goes by the motto seeing is believing, try not to make up your mind too quickly for you have the rest of your life to decide, that is if we believe we do…

The Unexpected Journey

It was an ordinary day when I was sitting in my library reading my favorite book The Theory Of Everything. It was quite chilly in there when I entered it an hour ago, so I turned on the heater. However, after a while, the library became so hot, I felt as if I were in a 400 degree oven. Therefore, I turned off the heater and the room slowly became an icebox again. Determined not to move I decided to just stay as cold as a penguin with a blanket while sitting in my dusty chair, for I always misplace my duster.

I was halfway through my book reading non-stop so much that I didn’t even have dinner the night before or breakfast which was why I was in the library trying to keep my nose away from the delicious aroma of waffles, blueberry muffins, eggs and bacon. But now as I recall I wasn’t in the library just to keep me from eating breakfast for I am pretty sure if I were in my livingroom I wouldn’t have smelled the food. I was also in the library because there were so many distractions: first of all there was a wall clock above my fireplace, that made an awful ticking noise; it annoys me all day. If it weren’t for my birthday, I would have never had to listen to it, but I had received it as a gift from my most generous Aunt Elizabeth and didn’t want to be rude. Another annoying sound was my determined little black cat who kept knocking things down trying to catch  a mouse. I had tried to lock her in her cage, but then she kept meowing which was even more annoying; and that’s how I ended up in the library.

Just then, my telephone started ringing; when I answered it, I realized it was my most trustworthy allie, Simon. He said he was at the front door; so I quickly exited the library through the only way out; a secret passage-way. I easily pulled out a book called War and Peace and one of the bookshelves turned sideways leading me right back to the living room having me to hear the irritating clock again; so I covered my ears and ran to the door. When I opened it I could hardly see Simon for he had ran into the house faster than a cheetah hunting its prey.

When I finally got a look at him, he was whiter than flour. It had gave me such a fright, for I could hardly recognize him. I asked him why he was so pale. He said that it was so cold outside that polar bears were wearing jackets; I looked outside and saw unassembled snowmen waiting for joyful children to come and give them a treatment of reincarnation. After a few seconds, I turned back to Simon and asked why he had come to visit. He said he had gotten a telegram from Mr. Max Watson saying he wanted to see us both at 2:30 sharp for a private meeting at his secret lair. I looked at Simon bewildered for a couple of moments wondering how to respond and finally decided to start with a very simple necessary question.

“Who is Max Watson?”

“There is no time to explain any questions right now,” Simon said as he checked his pocket watch, “We now have exactly 20 minutes to get across town or you will be sued for everything you own. However, lucky for you, I know a shortcut that’s right below us.”

He walked into my piano room and started playing one of the first songs I had learned on the piano when I was a young thing, Heart and Soul and in an instant one of the floor tiles flew open revealing an old fashioned buggy.  This time I was eager to ask him how he knew that secret passage-way, for I didn’t even know about it, but it was no use to ask, for as he had said earlier, there is no time to explain.

“This is a bullet train disguised as a buggy from the late nineteen hundreds, so hold on tight.” said Simon

As I got in, the bullet train had immediately taken off, but in approximately 15 seconds the train broke down like a dead dog. Simon quickly fixed up the problem and scampered back into the train as it started up again.

Finally, in about 10 minutes of silence the train stopped to its destination. I found myself  in an office filled with papers scattered everywhere, a large desk, chair and a skinny man with blond hair in a green suit with the name-tag that said Max Watson on it. Just like Simon had, Mr. Watson looked at his pocket watch. He said “You are exactly 13 seconds late. Therefore I will see you in court.” and Mr. Watson left the room just like that.

 Just then I fell out of my seat and into a black hole which was surprisingly pleasant or at least better than up there; I looked at the time; it wasn’t too late. I could turn this around for someone once told me “At any given moment, you have the power to say this is not how the story is going to end.”