Short Stories

6)Nature is Beautiful

Nature,
Oh, how she made me glow green.
My hunger and admiration bloomed to become something as godly as her.
-
The way she uses those gorgeous, bright teel ocean blues to sway her waters.
Her 'eyes'
Oh, How they can become dark and violent with rage fills me with an urge to go after her once more.
-
Her velvety, soft ground and the tanned skin of her earth, painted to the colour of stained oak and passing sand with the textures of a soft, groomed kitten.
Her 'skin'
Oh, how rough it can be!
Like bark off an old pine, to the harsh violence of whipping sand that leaves withering marks for generations. I beg the gods of faith to feel her wrath.
-
She's so gentle with her children, her animals and plants.
Caring like a mothering doe with the expertise of a goddess, so soft and kind like a light blue wind.
Her 'touch'
A mother of fire red hatred.
A piercing rage that can slaughter families with a glare,
Oh, to be caught in a glance, to survive a simple cut I was lucky with envy.
-
Her locks, flowing gently.
Like a silent rustle of leaves blowing in the autumn winds.
So silky and smooth, glowing a golden brown that's comparable to fresh morning dew on a dead lawn.
Her 'hair'
I wish to bathe in its scent and wear it like a royal cloak.
To be grazed by it so gently would make me moan in bliss.
-
She has a tone in which no angel can dream to compare, numerous times I've thought of it as a gracious curse to have blessed my ears.
To sing as a morning bird or to bellow out like a golden opera.
Her 'voice'
I've heard it, and it was even directed towards me.
I couldn't function, I was unconcerned with know it's to be a harsh scream that gashed my ears. It left me weak with a desire no hand from god could fulfill.
-
Her emotions flow in tandem with the rain, her mask contorts to the waters and sounds that outflow from her.
Her 'cries'
The brutality of her words, the murderous intent and fear that follows.
Oh how they made me shiver with a thrill of satisfaction
-
Her words, she chose incredibly well.
To bargain to gain, words would plow the ears.
Her 'pleas'
I thrived in her attention, her acting as if I'm one of high power. Oh, I drooled in this feast.
-
Her 'blood'
Oh how it pooled, it dripped with a fine delicacy with a rare taste only compatible to those of the finest wines.
Such smooth texture, such divine taste.
Oh, only a single drop was never enough.
-
Her 'heart'
How it would jump for joy when I saw it, naked and in the flesh, the reason for this beauty before me.
 I would pray in its honour with gratitude for generations.
-
Her soul If only I could have it, keep it in a jar and watch it dance just for my eyes only.
Oh, how I would imagine it would glow, like freshly shined gold in the presence of God herself.
Oh, I wished for it to be mine.
Oh, I needed it to be mine.
Oh, so it shall.
-
I wished to be her,
I wanted to be her,
I needed to be her,
I had to be her,
But I couldn't.
-
I missed the blues from her eyes.
The softness of her skin.
The silky feel of her hair.
The gentle, caring touch.
Her cries.
I missed her voice, and how it would bellow like a golden opera.
But it's hard to make the dead talk.

------------------->
Words: 615
This. . . took the longest. Took me a whole 3 and a half days from start to finish, but man was it worth it.
I got inspired by "The Tell-Tale Heart" Written by Edgar Allan Poe.
Feel free to analyze what's going on!