SpiralusSancti
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Feb 2, 2023
- Messages
- 2,301
There was this old man on the run. On the run from and to the bad in the name of the game. Blue was at his tail and on the other side of the fence there was death gang. He stopped in red border town. Asked his name, he said it’s Dark Day. Lay down, rest, try to not regress… Easy say, hard done. Popping pills, snorting lines in self defense. In defense from future, in defense from past. Nothing stopped sound of sirens on one side and sound of bangs on the other side. Sometimes he managed, but managed almost nothing as sole success was distorted sounds, sounds that for a moment seemed not to get closer and closer every sunrise…
Down at the bar, he sits down. People, life, all that hates him almost since he remembers and too often remembers to hate back. Downing pills and beer to blend in this nonsense to think easier what’s lesser evil, left or right side of the boarder.
Brown eyes chickita appears, curly hair, perky breast and all perfect, so perfect gods rest their hands on her glowing eyes and fiery soul. She looks at him, sees what might have become if such a soul isn’t born and wont die on the run. She took the chair, spin it, sit there at the table with Dark Day, and she said: “Drink with me if you want to live!”. Bottle of spiced tequila and kiss from nectar lips and his heart found the moment, first time since the eve of his mind. He took him to the bead, fed him with heavenly bread, soaked him in Eve’s delight and made part of him join the other side. At that moment of joined creation, bullet hits his head, in crossfire with police and gang, not meant for him but still mean of his end.
His legacy lives and his way persists in his son, Light Day.
Down at the bar, he sits down. People, life, all that hates him almost since he remembers and too often remembers to hate back. Downing pills and beer to blend in this nonsense to think easier what’s lesser evil, left or right side of the boarder.
Brown eyes chickita appears, curly hair, perky breast and all perfect, so perfect gods rest their hands on her glowing eyes and fiery soul. She looks at him, sees what might have become if such a soul isn’t born and wont die on the run. She took the chair, spin it, sit there at the table with Dark Day, and she said: “Drink with me if you want to live!”. Bottle of spiced tequila and kiss from nectar lips and his heart found the moment, first time since the eve of his mind. He took him to the bead, fed him with heavenly bread, soaked him in Eve’s delight and made part of him join the other side. At that moment of joined creation, bullet hits his head, in crossfire with police and gang, not meant for him but still mean of his end.
His legacy lives and his way persists in his son, Light Day.