Heroes

masquerading as demons of night and day. Rising up within under veil of truce, white flag fluttering to the sounds of the dusk. Burning brightly into the silence of full darkness. A piercing noise floods the air, wailing at the highest pitch. A deep bass, the reason, the constant, the steady beat of the heart. Off set with the crying soprano of a fragile voice. That voice speaks in tongues, casting its spell. The speaker weaves the words, the sounds, into a powerful dance. Entranced under the pale blue light of a full moon snaking its light through the hazy canopy.

Isn't life abstract? Isn't it so complicated and full of suffocating words that you can't comprehend it all? I am drowned.