The Dark Verse

There is often a part of me that I wish did not exist. There are thoughts that I cannot control and actions I get caught up in. I guess these would be considered my flaws or imperfections. Sometimes I want to yank them out and let them burn. Even though I believe such things can be forgiven, I want them to be taken away for good. I will be waiting for that day.

Excerpt:

The cracking voice of the mild singer brought me back from the depths of a bizarre subconscious. I looked around at the rest of Dim Lit Coffeehouse. Spots of green hovered in my sight while my eyes got accustomed to the ambiance. Everyone else appeared to be awakened from the same archaic sleep. Eyes were being rubbed. Yawns were being subdued. For the entire song, the singer had been flawless and hypnotic with her execution until this moment when she unusually broke the perfection of her sound. Having felt quite drawn to the images in my mind, I recounted them while the song progressed on.

I was rowing a boat in a large pond while colorful fish swam coolly alongside me. The radiance from their scales flourished brightly amid the moon’s immense light. My direction was unannounced, but my desires were ravishing. There was a sweet hum melodically perusing the soundscape of beauty. It rang and rippled across the surface of the water, softly slapping against my slow moving boat.

The performer ended her song. In delayed response, I clapped along with the rest of the audience, losing my place within the recollection of my reverie.

 11: Sounds Of The Deliverer [15:12m]: Download

Here is the second part of The Changing Feyth series. Make sure you listen to the first part before listening to this episode—you will need to so you know what is going on!

Excerpt:

While others sleep, the feyth do not. While others dream beautiful and terrifying visions, the feyth always stir in the unrest of consciousness, never to experience the small pleasure of an escape or diluting respite. Memories, emotions, longings, regrets—they all linger in a swirling prison of chaos. All of them prance and prick endlessly, tirelessly. This is the mind of a feyth; this is my mind—every decision and every action remaining like bones in a grave.

Satisfaction is a curious element among the feyth. The significant damage of mental pain is always there. We may not scar, but we never heal, the open wounds scathing our insides. Each moment of breath is tinged with sadness or hatred or anger. This being one of the reasons why I chose to act and end the outrage of our plaguing existence. We are a disease among the living. I wish to be the cure.

I must be the blind dagger and efface myself to achieve the goal. My journey horrifyingly lives on.

 10: The Changing Feyth (Part 2) [15:28m]: Download

Through my eyes are the peoples of the world. I see them, at night, lying in their beds within the structures that spread over the earth. As if transparency were the walls containing them, I can find them, isolate them, and extract them in my mind, plucking them one by one between the fingers of my hand. Some are significant while others not as much, but they all occupy the space of awareness, the intellectual habitat of desire and emotion. Each of their minds paint a different picture of the world and a different variation of what the world should be. Which minds should be saved; which minds are expendable. Thank goodness I have not such power to choose.

 The Augur's Scroll: Remnant IV [3:33m]: Download