| Jeremiah E. Cone |
||||
| A Days Thinking Of the thoughts pertaining to death and life and death again I am of current confusion. To ponder on life's misshapen ways I find injustice is done to the effect of despair and sorrow. With the happy go lucky era of today's time, sadness is a much deprived thought, an emotion most are too fortunate not to dwell upon and in fact live in. I, on the otherhand, am of the nature of tending my feelings to that dark satirical side of man's thinking that is so often forgotten. With this in mind I will explain the events of a particularly depressing evening of which I shall always dread. A dark and gloomy evening set black upon the land. As I set out into the crisp autumn evening the sun was giving of it's last and final attempt at glorious delight and darkness was surviving. The shadows ceased and the clouds rolled briskly by as my bare feet lightly touched the rain leaden grass beneath them. The cool sensation spread quickly to my heart as the memories of a time long past flooded my body with confusion. The sky, relentless in it's black and empty presence sent the memories rushing from my heart to my once barren mind of that icy winters eve. The thoughts continuously battering themselves against the cracking surface of my sanity, banging ever so harshly with the force of ten thousand drummers each pounding heavily on the snare before them. Slamming again and again slowly borrowing the hole bigger and bigger still, sanity giving way to insanity as the rope began to tighten around my fragile neck. The tree to which I'd tied the rope seemed sturdy to weight. I tugged and tugged again to test it's strength. Quickly I jumped only to break the branch and send reality rushing to my head. Sanity building back it's wall and the drummers all lay dead. |
||||
|
