Naked Truth

It’s hard to see a naked soul
They’re invisible to the naked eye
The truth lies naked and is so old
Lays bare compared to the lie
But of course they’re there
Actually, they’re everywhere

They’re always seen in clothes
In a wide variety of styles
Wool, fur and skin covered souls
Hugs it as it runs wild
Unfortunately when they’re forced to strip
People often see no more of it

This is when the lie is told
Buried bodies are dead and gone
With no mention of their soul
Where it’s been told that they live on
For some it may be beyond believing
Some essence of them is breathing

All that is has an ebb and flow
All that is has an energy
All that is may come and go
All that is can be heavenly
A soul stripped, made naked and bare
A soul stripped, can roam anywhere

A soul can roam in many minds
A soul can roam in many hearts
A soul can roam in many times
A soul can roam in many arts
A soul can roam and never cease
A soul can roam and be at peace

Some swear it’s all connected
If it exists than it’s intertwined
A thought which stands to be respected
Like the correlations in the mind
Everything inherently related in a way
Like the eternal relation of night and day

The forsaken clothes may lay here
The flesh, the skin and bone
The soul may even stay near
Those still dressed won’t feel alone
The life is only the body dies
The truth is only the body lies

Horrid Hunting

Cackling laughs fill the air as a gunshot blasting buckshot booms again

No Companion around to assist, or guard us against this stalking madman

Bloody Claws and mighty jaws of mutant dogs hunting along with him

Hunting us hungrily, with a voracious craving for blood

But I trust in my valor and daring, vigor of my faith

Sad to say it falls just as I do, caught in a bad position as saliva drips on my body, from both madman and dog, soaking my torso

 

Original Reddit Post

Prelude to a Timeless Love

A casual discussion between two immortals
From their words we can infer one is relatively young….

“Immortality, is it lonely?”

“Very”

“Ever met a time traveler?”

“One. We crossed paths every hundred years or so”

“No longer?”

“She died in my arms the first time we met. She said she wanted to see me ‘when I was young’ Ever since every visit is potentially the last”

So moved was he by the elder immortal’s memory
The young immortal decides to tells his tale
Documented as
A Timeless Love

Original Tweet by The New Fiction

My Money

I hear that
Money is the root of all evil

Interesting

The only thing I know about money
is that it’s only valuable when it departs
So having a large sum of money means
A great departure
Something similar to
The improvement of spiritual well being
After an exorcism

Get more money
Spend more money
Getting more money means
Spending more money

Just to acquire more things we regard
as personal possessions
and I wonder if when we possess a thing
if it’s in the same way
that a spirit possesses a body
If it does
then that possession requires a bit of spirit
a spirit that can be spread exceedingly thin
If a person were to possess
A multitude of things

but that’s a tale to tell on another night

 

 

It doesn’t seem to make much sense then
to make money
To invite the demons
their curses and their burdens
just to see an improvement
just to see spiritual well being
improve to a point
that it would have been without such an ordeal

Or maybe
they only become demons
If we invite them
and make them stay
Longer than they should

 

Interesting

 

So what I surmise
There is something going on
That we don’t realize

This might be unrelated
it’s possible
It’s in my mind but it’s still debated

 

I feel

there is an unhealthy infatuation

with preservation

 

Using immortal tombstones and pictures
Depictions that don’t age
We hold on to our beloved cadavers
with tender love and reverence
sometimes neglecting those who are still alive
Until we can hold onto them
with tender love and reverence
of course
when they become corpses

Unless of course
We can reanimate the corpse
steal the souls of the living
Like a lover
a friend
any kind of loved one
whom we abuse
or refuse to let go of
Because they give life to some amiable memory
Or a traumatic moment not fully forgotten
Some fleeting feeling
Transformed into a spiritual succubus
That gathers life energy for its master
Leaving one to wonder why
they feel so drained

 

From my perspective
it’s not life
but preservation that we consider so precious
I say so because
Life
Moves

I’ve never seen something so well preserved
also be the same thing that seems so alive
And I don’t think I ever will
Everything I’ve seen immortalized
was either dead
or completely still

Except the one time
it was caged
I only knew it was alive
Because it would sing
I know why

Sometimes
We waste life
waiting for something
that gives us a reason
to appreciate the very thing
that we trade for it
and then wonder why
time always seems to be slipping away

Bringing us closer…

 

 

The Fear of Death
The Fear
Fear

Well hello there
Friend
Forgive my loose use of the term
I’ve met your cousin Arnold
What an interesting character he is
Although I can never find Waldo
if you’re ever in the realm of my view
I can always see you
Friend
You once designed my whole world
been in my life for so long
I wonder what else you could be

As strong as you are
I know there is a villain
much more powerful than you
Your Master
The Feeling of Inadequacy

A Debilitating Deity
Demanding immolation from its subject
The fearsome entity
Which gathers gifts from its subordinates
The fearful
Who command the spiritual succubus
to steal
to distress
to oppress
to suppress
to depress
to cause stress

and money
or whatever it is concerning it
that causes corruption
is among a myriad of methods
it can use to do so

Like how a root
is a method
for a tree to gather nutrients

 

So I guess
that these whispers
About money, roots, and evil
may be more than just hearsay

And
Those that whisper
Just might be right