The box was folded, to contain life and
pasture. happiness and laughter.
Two powers rose, one male, and another,
called a Mother. After tasting the crimson
poison of truth, the contents started its
system and emptied itself. The man filled
with blame takes up his axe and slashes her; takes back
what he said he should claim and blows
black into her veins. He chokes her,
as he pounds into her skin with his
dark axe. He takes in as he inserted,
and sucked her glow.
He walks to a nearby tree and
rests his aching back. In front, laid
that frail white creature, gasping. He smiles
as he watched his prize slowly creep into a nothing.
As a familiar darkness came, stars hung like vultures
and watched another take place. The man, entered into a daze.
The body, slowly dragged herself onto the sleeping mechanism.
Slowly, she creeped, broken flowers in her hair, her dark demure
face cut and stained with red clay. Slowly, she creeped,
her hands cupped scorpions and cords of
deadly rose-thorned vines. Gently, she covers his mouth with a
smile and pours the mixture of brown shells and stings
onto his bare chest; the vines on her hand uncoils,
wraps itself onto the man's neck, tightening its grip as
each of her pawns darts into his bronze flesh.
His pain, eclipsed with her orgasm of
revenge. The stars swooped down from
their positions and the book read its first words,
from its final chapter.