Baptism of Twilight
By: Brandon Moore
Writing Prompt: Yes
Date: 14th Nov 2021
Word Number One, Deceiver
They stand up on a hill..
Their eyes are treacherous, poisonous in their eternal gaze. They follow with each retraced step as I try and make sense of my journey thus far. My hair falling out and jumping from the top of the building. They don’t ever speak, and dare not to fight fair. I just want to find my way from out of here. Get somewhere into the clear.
Clear my eyes..
Clear my mind..
There was a perfection to a certain type of silence. The type of voiceless commodity only caught when you close your eyes and prepare your final flight. It is in these fleeting moments that peace may be found. But at what cost? What is the cost of turning the cheek around a corner, if only just for tonight?
Break the silence..
Pray for violence..
What am I supposed to do? The path has veered and presented to me with the illusion of choice. The illusion of safety, safely guiding me by hand amongst my starlit path. To the left is an unknown road. To the right, ah, the warmth just feels so right. Like it is pulling me by the noose I’ve strung around my own neck. So come one, and hang with me. Hang with me just one more time.
You never know, it just might be enough.
Enough to see me through this impending doom of shattered memories and falsified epiphanies. The commercial free downward spiral of a broken man with bloodied hands. The worms provide comfort the world above had forbade. So in the mud my fortress was made. So just let go of the insecurities, it just may truly be enough. But do you judge the hopeless, or do you damn the hopeful? This is an endless circle and it drains us till there is nothing left. And again there is nothing left. Just the mirror reminders of who was lost and who was yet to be found again. It all doesn’t matter in the end. The fun was only just about to begin. Right now, the beating pulse of forgiveness begs for another chance to challenge and be set free.
Remove these shackles and I’ll remove your neck..
Only the beautiful can be so blessed.
I’ve become an anchor sinking into sand when I find my human nature too much to understand. I plead guilty to my crime, imprisoned voices trapped in stone for all of time. And time was hollow just like the bones beneath the floorboard calling out to anyone who strays too close. Better to just stay away, this wasn’t a game any of you are absolute about being really ready to play.. How is this for extending an invitation to this life’s conclusion? Or was it this life’s rapid expansion? All I needed was one, two gruesome solutions to accept it in my soul. Sanity warped depravity and self-destruction.
A call to arms..
Word Number Two, Lover
Love.. you’ve opened your eyes too late in the day. They wait for you in the room where you know they are having conversations of punishment. Last night you lost control and broke all their blood pumping mechanisms. So you stand in front of the polished sand wondering what will become of you and them.
They are scared..
Burn them like you did the rest.
They are dead.
One step in front of the other. You make your way to them. You rehearsed your words so many times. But this time, say it like you fucking mean it.
You always yell.
And it’s become so hard to tell the difference in logic between grief and disbelief. Transparency begs to be an accomplice, where we may achieve our immortal dreams. The dreams of pristine chalice, absurd thrones. Beneath our feet lay the trampled, and bloody masses who led to our ascension. Our birth rights to be the ruling party in these troubled lands.
My promised lands.
And tonight, will you promise to fall deeply into my outstretched arms? Nevermind the crimson stained hands. The world twirls and swirls around like a hurricane, and it doesn’t really matter much behind those blue eyes. Pulled in by the heart strings, and dangled like a charm. Behind blue eyes is where you can always find me, and it isn’t too hard to miss. But I always miss when I aim too high.
But for you, I will never stop.
I will always try.
This is a love letter as only the worst of man can write. Where do we go from here? It is only a matter of time. Slow down, choose the words wisely. Our destination is bound in the concrete proof that we are entities above the rest. They will never believe in it. They just plainly refuse to try and see it. But today is our air, and we breathe it. An unfathomable hunger, lusting for the plain and ordinary.
But we are robbed blind.
Drowning in the ocean of a miracle, the heavens of waves batten down the hatches. Look so deeply into my eyes, dreaming so fleetly that I lose in my mind’s eye. This is felt so daringly dark in the callousness of my bleeding heart. Worn on my sleeve, and imprinted upon my improvements of these skeletal remains. There is nowhere left to go, but up and up and beyond the great beyond.
Distilled in memories of quiet lives.
Just embrace me one last time.
There is a fire inside, a captivating warmth that we must and prevail to abide. Immersed in twilight, the violence of our lives. An eternity of a pretty picture that was captured in culpability of darkness denied. The weeping cronies of eternity. That is us. That is you and me.
The way it was always supposed to be.
So arm in arm, deadlocked in the constant struggle to make it out of this mess without divide. Where once it was the lack of strength that crumbled the bridge. But the lifevests were enough for us to invest in our deeds of misfortune. A cipher only my true love could ever find. My true love is the only one of a kind.
ALWAYS BE MINE
Two souls that were destined to collide were finally in stride. The electricity that emits from such a powerful connective force was unimaginative to the unimaginable. When others peered at the rejoice shared by such incredible creatures, all they could see was everything that they simply were not. Jealousy became the norm that surrounded us. Jealousy and hatred. Merely because they could not understand what was absolutely astonishing between my love and me.
The rarity of conjoined souls that were forged in the twilight of the universe for one another was to be the new standard. Our new normal was the beginning of the end of everything stuck in the old ways. Stuck in the primitive motions of happily ever after that lesser halves dreamed was quaint and antiquated. Now all that is left for us to do is simple. It was obvious. Too damn obvious, that we were the only ones capable of even seeing it.
But now you were all going to be forced to breathe it.
Word Number Three, Father
Why have you forsaken me? It’ll only be a moment before I am fucking dead. Trapped in a hollow shell is where they would come to find me. A wasted husk of human flesh, the walking dead with a needle to the brain. My mortal shell devoid of any semblance of humanity. The resistance led to my personal damnation. Sweeping behind enemy lines to find peace of mind.
Strip the fool.
Turned into a martyr.
By some beholden grace you arrived as a blinding light in my pool of darkness. You were delivered in a bath of sin. But the treasure was buried deep in a cold abyss. Sanity breathing new life from the form of a gift. Or a curse to be the constant reminder of rolling right on off that tall cliff. But that is the fool’s path of irrationality. You have been the gift that keeps on giving. Tearing down the walls that were built from a life time of torture. The bleakness was wiped away from this unending life the moment you opened those precious eyes. To perfectly capture the glimpse of everything finally falling perfectly into place. The grand plan was devised as you came into this life. And now the script has been flipped. Giving a man with nothing left to lose everything there is possible to be lost is a high stakes gambit by He Who is Above. Or was it a ploy by He Whom Was Below? All beliefs shatter when dragged beneath the microcosm of my very whims.
And all I know..
Is that I know nothing..
Believe in nothing?
But I found something worth believing. Something worth scraping through the muck of this pain and misery. Self-inflicted wounds that once left me suspended in tragedy, are now glued together with the fabric of an heir. An innocence looking to be guided towards the righteous by an unrighteous man. Was he up to the tall task before him? Was this broken, disgusting and evil man truly, truly, ready? We find the answer in the process of moving forward.
Right ahead to the end of the line.
The small hands of a child reach out and grip his daddy’s hands with all of his might. In this moment it is found that what this man believed or thought was unimportant. This boy, this miracle, believed deep in the bone with love pouring out of his eyes, that the bad man was not the bad man. The son believes in the father, and the outside world didn’t matter. Only the four walls and roof above could ever tell the reliable truth of this tale.
The son made the father whole again.
Do you believe in miracles?
Now bare witness to the epic, a blockbuster just barely underway. Though strayed, our story may now continue on the proper tracks. It was unknown at this time, but the bad man’s miracle was the other men and women’s disaster. Giving hope to the hopeless was the catalyst for his conquest. Nobody was now safe in this reborn reality, where up was down and everybody soon to be fucked around. For the son had awakened the true monster inside.
Say hello once more
to the boogeyman
Say seven hail marys because he was back again..
This time.. this time things were different. The objective was not material and glamorous. The mission was restated, simplified to the essence of simple mathematics. It was time for eliminating the fleck.. the unwanted.. and the truly lesser beings that were allowed to throw hands above their proper class. For the time had earnestly come for the one true king to reclaim his place atop the mountain so that the prince may have his kingdom.
Glory be to thee who choose to believe.
Welcome to the family.