Monochromatic – a world viewed in greyscale
Sept 8, 2015 19:30:30 GMT -7
Post by Celaena Kamyuja on Sept 8, 2015 19:30:30 GMT -7
Monochromatic – a world viewed in greyscale
Once a blooming red rose, full of streaming life in its veins
Now a wilting black petal rupturing with death and pain.
Now a wilting black petal rupturing with death and pain.
I love the cemetery. It’s quiet and peaceful – it’s the only place where I get a break from death. I loathe crowded places, crammed with voices and life. It hurts to be around life. People don’t understand how close death is, right over their shoulders, around the block, at the end of a street. It’s everywhere. I see death every day. But a cemetery is already dead…
The moon beams vibrantly; it’s only a sliver away from being full. Frozen leaves fall from the oak tree and the air smells crisp with late-winter. Headstones entomb the ground and a light mist dew the white coated grass. Akivasha leans against a tree trunk with her eyes incline with the slowly brightening sky. Early twilight, the best moments in time. The air smells clean, not contaminated with the leftover scent of smoke of cooking ingredients. Just the fresh scent of fresh air. Pure. Untainted.
“The cemetery is my sense of comfort, my sanctuary in a world of darkness, the only piece of light I have left in my life.”
She tilts her head to the side, wondering why she thought such morbid thoughts. Then her attention shifts itself onto an omen, her thoughts dismissed, forgotten. A murder of crows descended in a noisy fluster, settling in a row on the stone wall, huddling into themselves, their blue-black feathers puffed and their heads tucked in as though they’d pulled up their coat collars. They stared accusingly, miserably, but without their usual commentary. Akivasha counted them twice. Seven for a secret, never to be told. A bone-chilling wind stirred the fallen leaves until they formed cyclones that danced about the gravestones. The ice particles from the leaves leave sparkles within the air.A heavy sigh whispers … A new day has come.