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There is no day and there is no night. The sun always shines. Sometimes the light falls upon us and sometimes it does not. We call the 'yes' time day and the 'no' time night. Sometimes we face the radiance and sometimes we face the darkness. Fire and shadow. Hot and cold. Life and death.
I am of death, an expired life-eater. My name and my place are immaterial to the tale. But I may yet include them, for they add to the poetry inscribed here.
'This One' haunted the docks of a great city. Whether Mumbai or Rome, I do not know. I taste morsels of Caesarea Maritima, but that might be an illusion.
But the voices of others, life-eaters I mean, are not illusions. I hear them in the ether. Some babble away in the tongues of mad men, terrified and buried by the burden they bear. Others make almost no sound, slicing through humanity like razors. They sleep. They wake. They walk. They kill. I know you have heard it said that the magic settles differently on each and every one of us. But that's not important, for I do not judge.
Now I hear Jonathon, known also as Tomas. I hear Sarah and other souls too. The 'All Philadelphia Vampire Choir,' I call them. My companions laugh. But two of them are off to be reborn. So let them joke. They'll learn. They'll see. Life is not easy, nor sometimes death, as well.
And a certain friend, a dear fellow sojourner, went back two dozen years ago. 'Years'... that's another thing we don't really have. It's just a thin circle inscribed in the 'sky.'
This incarnation has not been easy. Is he homeless? No, the place where he is, is his home. But the gray stone wall of a great museum gives little comfort. Though a small niche built into thick walls hides him. He shelters there with his mates, sharing crusts and stories all through the hungry night.
And now Sarah approaches. She walks down The Parkway. A night bird hears and chirps... Or was that a rodent?
My friend hears her too. Perhaps 'senses' would be a better word. They've spoken in the past. He sits up and listens. But the pain comes back, though hopefully not for long...
While over head, a certain point in the vast, dark sky is readied to accommodate a brand new, yellow star....
~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~
please hit the SHARE BAR. nudge open the gates and let the fable live. your COMMENTS, as always, are very welcome. thank you and good night.
I am of death, an expired life-eater. My name and my place are immaterial to the tale. But I may yet include them, for they add to the poetry inscribed here.
'This One' haunted the docks of a great city. Whether Mumbai or Rome, I do not know. I taste morsels of Caesarea Maritima, but that might be an illusion.
But the voices of others, life-eaters I mean, are not illusions. I hear them in the ether. Some babble away in the tongues of mad men, terrified and buried by the burden they bear. Others make almost no sound, slicing through humanity like razors. They sleep. They wake. They walk. They kill. I know you have heard it said that the magic settles differently on each and every one of us. But that's not important, for I do not judge.
Now I hear Jonathon, known also as Tomas. I hear Sarah and other souls too. The 'All Philadelphia Vampire Choir,' I call them. My companions laugh. But two of them are off to be reborn. So let them joke. They'll learn. They'll see. Life is not easy, nor sometimes death, as well.
And a certain friend, a dear fellow sojourner, went back two dozen years ago. 'Years'... that's another thing we don't really have. It's just a thin circle inscribed in the 'sky.'
This incarnation has not been easy. Is he homeless? No, the place where he is, is his home. But the gray stone wall of a great museum gives little comfort. Though a small niche built into thick walls hides him. He shelters there with his mates, sharing crusts and stories all through the hungry night.
And now Sarah approaches. She walks down The Parkway. A night bird hears and chirps... Or was that a rodent?
My friend hears her too. Perhaps 'senses' would be a better word. They've spoken in the past. He sits up and listens. But the pain comes back, though hopefully not for long...
While over head, a certain point in the vast, dark sky is readied to accommodate a brand new, yellow star....
~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~
please hit the SHARE BAR. nudge open the gates and let the fable live. your COMMENTS, as always, are very welcome. thank you and good night.
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