murder!

Aloft in the air, the aroma happily made its way down into my stomach. A well prepared and marinated dish immediacy became gazed with a cry of satisfaction. Murder is a hard thing to digest, unless one has drowned in it’s own flavor and prepared it for themselves; the way they like it, the way I like it. The two voices speak but only one listens, conversing soberly as they both draw near. Neither the loud outraged or the low and calm voice can hear each others tone. There are screams with silent thoughts, a plot of some sort, thrusting forth yawning inside my head. Grief, rage, and terror was yet piercing this feeling, which must have been a few yards of “the murders,” my hiding-place; but when? The tiptoes stood still, pulling aside clues and prayers. I will kill tonight! Faith has chosen to go after thee, discovering so aptly that the arguments seemed rather useless at this point. Thus a smile emerged as the traveler continued traveling. Fading into far-off laughter, my shadows were swept away, leaving only the clear and hushed blade to cut into air like it would into flesh. Willingly I’ve become unfaithful with no one to blame, no one to offer this responsibility to. A high price had to be paid for this, a reality called life. I have whispered my deepest sins without wind and have felt, which, perhaps, must be faith. For I am guilty of intelligence, and above all, intelligence forbids fear. What if our beliefs were threatened and life had continued beyond deaths ears. Where death on a winters night had no longer held it’s windows open. I will yet stand firm against death, applauding thee strengths, only leaving it’s heart dripping in my palms. The last breaths of many before me, and none after. I have murdered death.