A word of warning before reading: this piece is.weird. Dunno how my warped
up mind cooked this one up, this time. Might be the influence of
Frankenstein and White Oleander. Who knows.
Disclaimer: The boys are not mine, whichever boy is talking here, anyway. ^^; I'm merely a broke fangirl getting her kicks out of writing the poor boys in nonsensical stories.
--
How the mighty have fallen.
What weak bonds such as these have tied us together all along. This inexorable fate had always been lurking, I suppose. Dancing always just a step away, always just a step.
Temptations were resisted, but they were always there. 'Follow me,' she would sing, in her sweet not-voice, luring us to dark alleyways where cats prowled with their ever-glinting eyes. They are the prey.
'Follow me,' she would sing again, as if afraid she'd lose us. But no, our wariness had long since melted away, and how can we not follow when she calls to us in this way, rendering us blind and deaf to all else. What a beautiful siren she makes, when we are but sailors being led to our dooms.
'Follow me,' and all control is lost. We are mindless and helpless babes. At her mercy and we kiss her feet, but no, 'Now is not the time.'
'You may not catch me yet.'
She is with us now, and her smile is so very glorious. She is with us in the snow, the blood, the tears. She has painted those stains on our hands. She is our skin. She touches us. She is us, and we are her. She envelops us.
Her dancing feet stop their twirling, and there it will stay, for we have caught up. We have reached the end of the alleyway, and the cats are but corpses that occupy the trashcans. They are food for the rats.
The thought comforts me, and the pain is not so great, nor the cold so bitter.
So it begins, so it ends, and in the end, there is an end, for the survivor among is no survivor at all.
--
.There you have it.
Disclaimer: The boys are not mine, whichever boy is talking here, anyway. ^^; I'm merely a broke fangirl getting her kicks out of writing the poor boys in nonsensical stories.
--
How the mighty have fallen.
What weak bonds such as these have tied us together all along. This inexorable fate had always been lurking, I suppose. Dancing always just a step away, always just a step.
Temptations were resisted, but they were always there. 'Follow me,' she would sing, in her sweet not-voice, luring us to dark alleyways where cats prowled with their ever-glinting eyes. They are the prey.
'Follow me,' she would sing again, as if afraid she'd lose us. But no, our wariness had long since melted away, and how can we not follow when she calls to us in this way, rendering us blind and deaf to all else. What a beautiful siren she makes, when we are but sailors being led to our dooms.
'Follow me,' and all control is lost. We are mindless and helpless babes. At her mercy and we kiss her feet, but no, 'Now is not the time.'
'You may not catch me yet.'
She is with us now, and her smile is so very glorious. She is with us in the snow, the blood, the tears. She has painted those stains on our hands. She is our skin. She touches us. She is us, and we are her. She envelops us.
Her dancing feet stop their twirling, and there it will stay, for we have caught up. We have reached the end of the alleyway, and the cats are but corpses that occupy the trashcans. They are food for the rats.
The thought comforts me, and the pain is not so great, nor the cold so bitter.
So it begins, so it ends, and in the end, there is an end, for the survivor among is no survivor at all.
--
.There you have it.