Monday, July 21, 2014

Sunset over the Sahara

A road lay before her. Straight,narrow and forever.

A gust of desert wind swirled the sand up through the desert air,flinging it across from dune to dune,shaping the landscape with the gentle brush of an artists imagination. The sun hung low over the horizon,vast and watchful, as it bid farewell.

The rumble of the engine as it blazed past the suspended beauty of the great North African desert. Here,things will never change. It stays the same as it did for millenia. Not like the other great cities of mankind. Concrete jungles burned for 3 months, flames fueled by destruction and fallen innocents. But here,it was quiet.Here there was the sound of the wind,cut by the rumble of the engine.

She didn't know what it was called,only the sound it made as it ate up mile after mile of road. She didnt know where she was,only where she was going.

Her eyes stayed steady,set on the horizon and her destiny.  The Kalashnikov at her side rattled against the frame of the jeep as the smooth road deteriorated into a rocky path,as the gentle desert landscape was left behind and was replaced by the arid,rocky mountainside.

She struggled,but she climbed all the same.

Her hair was whipped around her,gentle curls flailing around her, as she grabbed the gun and jumped out. There was no more road,only a destination,only a summit. She pushed the shock of straight hair away from her face. The out of place and unnerving patch of straight hair.

With the gun slung over her shoulder,she reached and climbed.

The unforgiving elements broke against her,wave after wave. The heat broke down on her back,the wind threatened to rip her from the mountainside. But she held on. And climbed.

Finally,she dragged her self over the edge and rolled onto her back. Exhaustion took over her senses. The world floated around her as darkness crept and threatened to blanket her consciousness.Her heartbeat pounded in her head,every beat evoking an image from her life.

Her parents.

Her siblings.

Her childhood.

The jungle where she was raised.

The wolves.

The wolves.

The wolves.

She jerked back to reality as the growling intensified.

She rolled to the side and onto a knee,her back arched,her foot seeking purchase on the ground for a quick leap. She was alert now,her sense sharpened.

There were 2 of them standing in her way, and just beyond them was what she had come for.

The wolves stood guard.

She inhaled the dry air,and let it fill her lungs. Her gun was just beyond her reach,trying to grab it would cost her precious seconds and her life. She pulled the short knife from its sheath and held it like she had been taught.With hand wrapped around it tightly to make a fist and the end pointed downwards.One of them took a step forward as she did this and then paused.

She took a second breath,her head clear now,all thoughts of family and emotion locked away and set aside.There was no past or future,there was only this moment,this all consuming moment. The wolf bared its fangs at her,trying to intimidate her. She widened her eye and scrunched her face up,and intensified her stare.It was truly the mask worn by death as it came to claim its prize. It was a nightmarish abomination,the eyes burned and became too big as the rest of her face became smaller around her.The wolves seemed to hesitate,to back off. But it was too late for them now.Because beyond them was what she had traveled so far for,on the summit of Mt.Cafinals

She took her third breath,and then she pounced.

Saturday, July 12, 2014


He is the one, who came in through cause and into effect
He is the sum of the past, and herald of the next

I am, the one to pause and will to differ
For I seek to act, because I will and no other

He is a mirror, a reflection for the masses
Tempered through the trials and tribulations of self-served classes
A spark for every resistance, a thought for every action
The instinct is the adversary, for who’s inquisition my every act is

I am the artificer, with chisel and vision
My thoughts the stone, formless before decision
I rend the unsavory and wait to listen
His cries of agony, in coerced transition

He is the shackle to restrict transcending flight
The soaring of mine, unearthly dreams
To hopes of free action and unmarred sight
and escaping the severed seams

We differ and dissent but never relent
For our thoughts are towards the common end,
To purge the queer and perfect the veneer
that feigns to make the world content