The Dark Verse

Why must we go home? Because, where we came from, we so also must end.

Excerpt:

I awoke to the severe beating of my heart, which drove throbbing percussions through my temples. Beneath me, a sick, cold sweat lined the sheets. My hands were trembling and my throat was raw. I quickly rose from the bed in disgust and discomfort and stood as if leaving the compound of a putrid nest, where I lay to be the toy of playful and malicious ghosts.

Through the window, light beamed heavily from the overly lit moon hanging low on the horizon. Shadows were cast all about the room. They hung and sulked definably, forming characters in shape and personality that spoke out to me in the language of darkness.

Something did not settle right within me; in that moment, everything felt twisted and impure. There were thoughts trailing in my mind that I could not quite grasp but that left strange and potent emotional residues that lingered thickly and deeply. Like fog, they shrouded my mind and left me in weariness.

Feeling disgusting, I went to the bathroom and turned the water on in the shower, allowing it to heat before getting in. Once inside, I let the water refresh and renew my being. The water felt safe; it satisfied my resonating dissonance and brought me back to the equilibrium of my usual self. And as I regained myself, I knew that I needed to check on Sofia. I needed to peer into her crib and see her soundly sucking on her tiny thumb. I needed to touch her fragile skin and kiss her soft head.

 13: The Missing Come Home [18:43m]: Download

Take what you can from this story. It is a mixture of many things strange and philosophical and religious. Obviously, just from its title, this story is about a great subject that has most likely surfaced at a dinner discussion or two. What I can promise you is that you have never read or heard anything quite like the way you will hear about it in this episode of The Dark Verse.

Excerpt:

Was I the wish of a demented god? Or was I a god? Or was I the pinnacle abhorrer of malformation? My beginnings were not in my memories and my abilities were not in my mind as an aspect of learning—as I existed, so they existed. The only truths within my knowledge flew about like flies in the dark—their impacts meaningless and their presences disposable. I was both a witness and judge of the world, though for what matters, I could not grasp.

My earliest recollection of the time and place I inhabited was a lowly candlelit dining room where a gentleman quietly ate of soup with a young daughter. Sounds of serenity permeated the air as a record player sung off the somber notes of images unseen and places unknown. The man’s eyes wavered with doubt and distress, and as his daughter looked to him for the smallest sign of comfort, there was none. In the vacancy of such virtue, the girl began to reflect her father, her demeanor and movements falling even more pitiless in reflection.

 12: Fate [11:16m]: Download