Still RunningShe lay sprawled on the couch, taking a moment to rest. She must have dozed off. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly open. One leg hung off the edge of the cushion. Her shoes were still on, ready to get back up and keep on going. Still running even in her dream.
The Story of MonLong ago, in a place not too far from here, there was a woman named Mon. She was beautiful, and graceful in her arts. Her skin was milky, her eyes blind and white, her hair turned white with age.Mon was a dancer. Every night she would dance for mortal men, gods, and all in between. Such was hear grace that she stole the hearts and minds of all who watched, holding them hostage. Only when she finished in the climax of her dance would she return their sanity.There was one who could not watch as she danced, but felt her none the less. She danced particularly for him. He was a powerful sorcerer, and a jealous one. The whole of his body had been burnt black by the powers that he wielded. It was said he'd lost his eyes in penance for looking on a goddess, but whatever the case his were only empty sockets.As Mon danced every night, those who watched her would lose their minds. They would sacrifice the whole of themselves and all around to her. They would show their love and devotion to her
Broken MirrorSeven years,Missing Pieces,Ill bet that makes it worse.Dont pay any attention to them,Theyre not real.Small one,Ragged and cold,Small hand cupped in hunger,Why dont you just give up?Dont pay any attention to them,Theyre not real.Because.Because is the answer toAll questions.Dont pay attention to them,Theyre not real.A blowing of the nose,A flick of the Eyes,Each of these means something.Dont pay attention,Theyre not real.Learn to read the Rain PuddlesAnd youll understand the world.I wouldnt try it,You wouldnt like the results.Dont pay attention,Theyre not.I thought I had wings,I thought I could Fly,I can.Not pay attention,Theyre not.Long white fingers,Spiders Legs,Twigs on a tree.Not attention,Theyre not.Pokes and prods,Pricks and Pins,The needle wont pierce cloth.Not,Theyre not.Beautiful dreamers,Are spider plants and books.
Needle and ThreadDriving through my mindThisSilver needle of a thought.I'mTrying to comprehendsuch innocence.Spinning through her handsThisThread of consciousnessShe'sTrying to understandthis world.
CardsShow me all your cards,before you take advantageof my not knowing the rules.