Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Fear The Rain

They walked along a narrow trail
And as they did, told many a tale
The one eyed the sky doubtfully
Listening to the other carefully

The heavens seemed to darken
The thunder bade them hearken
Then began to fall a large drop
And another so without stop

Will it rain the elder asked
Seems that way the other replied
His defeat so thinly masked
Both hoped it might subside

All hope was then put aside
The dark skies were opened wide
All along the mountain side
Reigned the thunder and his bride

Rocks began to tumble
The hills began to slide
Mountain deep to rumble
Thus the fateful water ride

They tripped and fell
They stumbled and flew
Down into a dell
And then fell anew

Their descent came to an end
Their bodies in the flood
The other searched for his friend
The water red with blood

They were alive amidst the downpour
They both were in great pain
Their survival wouldn't reassure
That's why they fear the rain

-N

Novam Mortem

It was the silence that woke him. Never before had he heard such  absolute silence. It was oppressive, he felt as if he was suffocating in his own mind. He felt nothing, not his pillow, nor his bed. Finally he  opened his eyes. And for the first time he felt pure terror. He could  see nothing. He must be dead, that is the only explanation. As suddenly  as lightning strikes, the memories came back to him. He was put into a  case, about the size of a coffin, and slowly he felt the water rise. He  could feel again the burning of his lungs as they cried out for air, he  could feel the pounding of his heart as he slowly drowned, and he could  feel the hopelessness as he knew he would die.
   Then he felt something. A slight dampness beneath him. Slowly it became more pronounced, his back was wet. His mind reeled with the revelation. He decided that he must still be alive and his heart leapt for joy.  Around him the water was rising, but in his ecstasy he didn’t notice  until it had enveloped him. His lungs burned for air as he inhaled the  first gulps of water, his heart pounded as he slowly began to drown, and the feeling of hopelessness engulfed him as he realized he was going to die. He could feel himself being snuffed out. A minute passed. Two. He  was no more.
    It was the silence that woke him. Never before had he heard such  absolute silence. It was enlightening, he felt as if he was suddenly  blessed with knowledge of everything. He felt nothing, at least not  physically. It was as if he could stretch out his mind and touch the  essence of the universe. Finally he opened his eyes. And for the first  time he felt pure joy. He could see nothing, but within it he could see  the mysteries of his existence. He must be dead, that is the only  explanation. As suddenly as a light being flicked on, the memories came  back to him. He was placed into a case, about the size of a small couch, and slowly he felt the water rise. He could feel again the relaxation  of his body as it prepared for what was to come, he could feel the  pounding of his heart as he realized that he would be experiencing the  greatest journey of his life, and he could feel the hopefulness as he  knew he would die.
     Then he felt something. A slight dampness beneath him. Slowly it became more pronounced, his back was wet. His mind reeled with the revelation. He decided that he must still be alive and his heart leapt for joy.  Around him the water was rising, but in his ecstasy he didn’t notice  until it had enveloped him. His body relaxed and prepared for what was  to come, his heart pounded as he realized that he would be experiencing  the greatest journey of his life , and the feeling of hopefulness  engulfed him as he realized he was going to die. He could feel himself  being released. A minute passed. Two. He was no more.
   The man glanced at the peaceful face in the container. This same face  that not eight minutes before had been contorted in terror and rage now  resembled that of a saint. He made a note, and pressed the reset button. A timer started. In three minutes, the eyes would open, and there would be a new person in the body.
-L

Incepted Genesis

There are two. The first, who we will call N, is the elder. The other will be known as L. Neither would be considered the wiser, nor would either ever claim to be. That would be an affront to their mutual respect. They write, both with their own distinct style, though neither is particularly bound to it, sometimes together and other times not. Many styles appeal to them. Many topics as well. Expect to be entertained, and, at times, to have your brain wrinkled.