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| The blades are out tonight. Siren sharp edges shuffle words between sense and no-sense. A yes-sense place where the darkling parasite shifts and stirs. Some soundless, shouted thought disturbed its sleep and now that mindless appetite devours light. Light or life? What difference when coils choke and blind eyes see only blade shining red relief? So small and object of false promise. Promise. Promise-not-to balances promise-need-to. "Resistance is useless" "We have ways of making you talke!" As corniny as that and just as laughably true in this particular re-run of empty, pointless, battling. |
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Temptation |
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