Momentary Museum

     A crashing waterfall in the distance carries frostbite to my neurons. A sheet of ice blankets me as time freezes and my worries are set on display at the closest museum. There will be no running in the halls of my mind tonight. Just as there will be no mercy, no solution to my wax arts untimely melting until the sun takes its shift.

     Silence prevails, banging on a trash can lid with a harder rock than the devil at such an hour. Even the prisoner I keep has held its tongue long enough for me to think this pause abnormal. Everything is so full of life, yet at once it has returned to a ghost town. This town I've not yet taken the liberty to see albeit this night that the sun is a controlled variable coexisting in ecstatic harmony with the moon's luminous smile.

     Such a merciless wind above. Men believe they can force the God of the universe to take an eternal breath, and in turn they use that same delusion to plan their escape when the Lord's belly is filled with fire in the midst of their cycle. Such fools.

     Nothing they pillage will withstand moth. Nothing they swindle can escape rusts razor sharp teeth. Such a beast has already locked its eyes. It never forgets, never forgives, never misses. We all gaze in disbelief as these strange beings confined by the will of the void night attempt to plot our course in vain.

      Our ship will be split into two by the same hand that selected its crew. They will writhe in agony as they never cease to sink further into the trench of eternity while we will be safe from the splinter of everlasting death.  Until that day I'll watch diligently to be sure that I don't miss boarding such a voyage, but in the meantime, I intend to enjoy this moment alone.

The End

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