His body moved slowly through this strange space of darkness. An eternal ether of himself. Surrounded only by thoughts which sluggishly trailed him from earth, leaving only a golden mist of stifled laughter following in it its wake. There would be no redemption from this melancholy foreverness. His internal wounds would never heal- so they bled instead- softly, into the cool night of the other side. Make me sane, he pleaded. Make me feel alive again. His thoughts travelled reluctantly down the barren tunnel of his mind. A vain pursuit: they were responded only by miserable echoes of the life he had lived. Repulsive shadows loomed in his every thought; happiness was a stranger in solitude. He tried to cling onto the small fireflies of laughter from her eyes, but they drifted aimlessly in the unreachable distance, like golden teardrops elongated in a vacuum. Turning in slow turmoil, delicate but without aim. Disguised in futile dreams. Curling in the corrupted clouds of night. As the wrinkled hand of the end extended towards him, he watched these moments slowly decay, wilting like the dulled edges of a marigold on the watching windowsill of his closed eyelids.
Alone the man stood over the carpet of snow. Silently observing the land that stretched further than his sunken eyes could see. Unfeeling, even as his coat was ruffled by an empty wind sweeping further than he could travel. The man knelt down; knees breaking towards the stubborn ground. The same stubborn ground which had grown all sentient beings, only to selfishly reclaim them once more. An untrodden land burdened only by tears of heavy dew and two vessels in a vast expanse of blankness, like the silhouettes of snow angels.
Two bodies mingled on the brink of innocence and corruption. Screaming silently with a passionate frenzy conjured from the stillness of their minds. Blood red cherries at the heightened peak of ripeness; freshly picked off the ends of the earth. They were the very last. He could hear the soft raucousness ebbing from their sleeping souls, each thought a golden nugget dissolving into the cloudless skies. As if defying nature, the droplets would emerge: some lucidly drifting upwards, whilst others decayed and were lost to the scattering winds.
A unifying halo of frost crowned both their foreheads, embedded with pearls formed by gentle strokes of the passing moon. The boy, a tender face eroded by the impartial hands of time, wearily sighed at the descent of his thoughts. His curled fingers pointing upwards towards the sky of bedsheet blue. Next to him, a girl flitted slowly with soft sweeping breaths of serenity, fluttering, like doves, from her half parted lips. Her glazed eyelids were delicately sealed with the cold fingertips of snowflakes. Her lungs suspended like wings of a cabbage- white butterfly before falling from the height of the empty air.
Her heart thumped against the prison of her body, the confinements of unmoving skin. Embracing her blood gushing like fizzy champagne reminded her of what would have been her 18th birthday. How her pulsing veins would have run with sparkling pop, forcing her muscles to move only in time to the deafening beats which crashed like the sharp shrills of a bell. Relishing the brief risk of an eternity whilst basking in the rays of midday heat. Her chin raised defiantly against the bursting balloons which would only leave an unwelcome emptiness. A monotonous mellowness she had felt for too long, crawling out of her skin like maggots. The last snatches of reality fell short from her grasp- his grin tumbling down the gaping hole. It didn’t stop the haunting echoes of piercing laughter etching further into her mind. It didn’t numb the scorching sensations of electric parades from his deep eyes, traversing in a way which both burnt and enthralled her. An eternal symphony of all the made up moments: her body a vessel for imagination. Desires moulded from the innate depth of the heart, discarding weak flickers of yearning for a brilliant sunshine she could no longer feel. She could only dream of extinguishing the murky silhouette of reality with shots of gold confetti. Only hope to erase an imperfect, corrupted life for what was real in her beating heart. Because here, with him, she was on the other side.
Their faces were frozen as timeless saints. Patrons of preserved passion in amber droplets evaporating from the arid earth. The man wondered what dreams lingered on their breaths. What hopes had perished with their bodies… or if any still clung to their souls.
He may have sat with them for eternity now. The last two relics on earth. Time moved nonchalantly across this barren land; wearing over the delicate canvas in a slow destruction. It stopped, however, at the two figures. The heavens had not bent to embrace them, nor had the earth opened up to reclaim them.
The snow did not melt with the breath of the sun, but glistened as night eventually beckoned the clouds. They wept guiltily onto the girl and boy, yet still their ceaseless beatings were not dampened. They left white cotton to rest on the tops of their souls, embedded into the earth by the heavens. Yet their veins surged surely: defiant with life.
Briefly glancing out of the window, the man saw small snippets of small lives anchored to the earth. Bubbles drearily floated across the horizon, refracting slithers of moonlight to illuminate the silhouettes of the other side before he closed the sky blue curtains.
For whom else could these hearts beat? What else did these eyes require to devour? Where is the need to drink any other touch? Now rooted to the ground from which they were born, their memories beat restlessly against ruthless waves of fate.
They were tucked among the blanket of snow- between the heavenly clouds and embrace of the earth. As the rest of the world slept, two angels lay frozen in the snow. Their hearts defying time.
If you’ve made it this far, welcome and thank you for reading! As you can tell, this is not a poem, so I’ve posted something a little different from my usual. I’d love to know your opinions on my story in the comments below!