The Titan. Under the vast blanket of twinkling song, his enormous stride sweeps over mountains with rumbling, echoing, archaic steps. He crosses lakes with unbeatable speed - his gargantuan form itself appearing to move as slowly as if he were underwater. As he moves, head soaring above the clouds, the songs above sing louder and bigger and brighter as they grow closer.
The Titan's great head lifts after eons of vacant staring, and with wisened, wondrous eyes, he watches. The one who sees all, watches, protects; the one who has traversed every single spit of land; the one who has memorized every minuscule movement of the stars. He gazes in shock and despair and he howls - he screams and wails and falls to his great, earthquaken knees.
His shouts and screams that run his tattered throat to bloody, wheezing silence shatter mountains. Forests rip and tear forth from the earth, sending avalanches hurtling down and cascading over civilization. Oceans are shoved with the force of the shattering sound barrier - stronger a billion times over than the gentle push and pull of the Moon.
For the endless, unbroken lake of pitch black ink is full to bursting with falling, tumbling, burning angels.
YOU ARE READING
Twisted Dreams
PoetryA collection of short stories, poems, and half-written ramblings. ~•°•°-----------------------------------《☆》 dream \ ˈdrēm \ 1 : a series of thoughts, visions, or feelings that happen during sleep ~•°•°-----------------------------------《☆》 night·m...
