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"At the end of the road less travel" by FallenHero

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i struggle to break forth from the trees. many years i have struggled to break through this labyrinth of the damned, to once more feel the sun on my face, breathe deeply from the free air, and more than anything, be able to see more than one step ahead of me. The trees close in on my, nearly breaking my body, but never my spirit. With my last ounce of strength I throw myself at this wall of my own making. As my world flashes into bright light and my vision dims, i know i tried.

I awaken in a clearing steps from the abyss i have called home. As i slowly rise to my feet i see were i am. Before me a hill with nothing but a bleached grey tree, even in death its skeleton displays the power and awe it must have commanded in life. The path to this titan of old is broken and over grown, forgotten in the generations of disuse.

 It takes days to struggle to the top of the trail, but days matter not in years it has taken to reach this point. As i crawl to the peak i see the back of a woman gently weeping. Not a woman, but a crippled angel. She stands next to the tree with her shoulders slumped, flightless wings crumpled down her sides.

The sight that greats my eyes is staggering. This no hill, but a jagged bluff over an unforgiving ocean. The black waters dash themselves carelessly against the unrelenting stone, the two locked in their eternal combat. The onyx sea stretches out till it touches the sky, poisoned by ashes of dreams slamming against the walls of reality. The acid rain supports nothing but the trees that spring up to hem in our paths.

I turn to this fallen angel, finally able to see her fully. Her gothic armor is pierced and rent offering none of the protection for which it was meant. Her black hair whips in the wind as she hides her face from my inquiring looks. I try to comfort her but she pulls away deeper into the shadows of the tree. I can say nothing, my voice does not work, but she can. All she whispers is "sorry" over and over again. She covers her face with her hand obscuring all features no matter how I try to see.

I now know this place. I see the truth of what this opening in the world is. I stand roaring in defiance, staring at eternity, at the base of the last bastion of strength in this world. My guardian angel weeping tears of blood, here at the end of the road less traveled.



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On Wednesday September 12th, 2007, urbanhumility (1351) writes:
your imagery is un-relenting.....your words and story stoic and solid in emotional direction.........your image has affected me this day.........breathtaking............well done



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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/11899/102406 on Friday September 05th, 2008 04:57 AM

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