The Dark Verse

I am hoping to create a little viral advertising. I made the website, www.immurement.com, with the purpose of forming some publicity for The Dark Verse. If you get a chance, please look at it and send it out like wild fire; it will be interesting to see what comes of it.

Excerpt:

My life started to deteriorate in the absence of sensible things. I was a child, and so to me such remedies against the imaginative should never have been necessary. But when the world crashed and became the inferno of death, it could not be associated, however so sadistically, with youthful reveries. Even under the attempted corrections, I never escaped in those ways expected—that was probably the one thing that ever did make sense after my first evening with the midnight apothecary.

If I could have been able to leave for but a second, I might have had the opportunity to depart myself from the frothing insanity. Yet, that incorporeal devil of existence’s undergrowth had crawled its way deep into the vestiges of my waking consciousness, where only very rarely such a thing came to play. I was manipulated and taunted with images upon my mind that opened and closed without approval or submission. I lost those very roots that built the foundations of my memory.

Some have said that it was possession—a word that I heard through those few fractions of life I experienced—and others said that it was a mental impediment, but only I knew its true derivative. There were reasons that most dreams were left to the nothingness of unremembered timelines, but there were even greater reasons why those entities that inhabited them should not overstep their boundaries. I, on the other hand, had the carnal fortune of trapping one such beast in the horrific folly of a simple awakening, and I never slept since. I called this incident—when something came to a place where it should not have been—falling between the corridors.

 7: Between The Corridors [14:56m]: Download

I witnessed the star fall in the distance. I saw how it dropped low on the horizon, disappearing beneath the ocean before curving back around and out for but an instant, then vanishing away forever. There was nothing like it; nothing could be more surreal.

The wars were on my mind at that time—how strange that might be—but not the wars of this world. Beyond the black curtain of what is, I have looked, and there is much more out there—much more than what “is.” There are things that are not that are just as real, just as significant—maybe even more so.

It glowed brightly too, that star, as if it was meant to be seen. I felt as if something was revealed to me and only me. The peculiarity of its pattern and sudden change of direction were foreign to me; could such a mass, or any moving body of the outer realms, navigate such a monstrosity of absurd flight? How preposterous was it? With my own eyes, I witnessed this cosmic incident.

I have hope that I will one day understand such occurrences more fully—perhaps when I am not as concerned with what is, I will be more open let those unseen, secret folds of space and time transcend upon me.

 The Augur's Scroll: Remnant I [4:46m]: Download

Sometimes it gets way too late when I post my new episode, and the energy I have left is in the negative. I really wish I could put a great introduction that asks a good, philosophical question every time, but my brain is always racked from thinking of ideas for the story. So, under the lack of my the creative flow for the introduction, here are a few words from me: “Abate the call of The Dark Verse and listen to the episode!”

Excerpt:

Touch—I felt all ways of it. I felt light moving silk, soft fitting cotton, and elegant velvet; I knew the embrace of satin and the weave of polyester. Upon me danced the colors and shapes of the universe. Those hands that pressed and brushed against me told the tales of creation’s wisdom, and I collected of their ways. Dresses, vests, jackets, cloaks—I wore them all and aided them in their completing beauty. There was not a piece of clothing that I did not feel or know. My skin was the palette of the sure and tried and the steady thread.

From the moment of my creation, I had been destined to the art of tailoring, and I was no ordinary assistance to the noble industry. I was, as I believed from the successes associated with me, the only of my kind to have such an occupation. My essence, in its entirety, was bittleclay: an “inanimate” material with the capability to learn from the environment embodying it. Like a baby out of the womb absorbed the world around it, bittleclay did the same by those means given to it in its beginning, allowing for the growth of an aware, mobile, and fully cognitive entity.

 6: The Bearer Of All That Can Be Felt [15:53m]: Download