where the writers are
HUSH

                                                                                                                              HUSH

Bouncing off the walls of my exile.. Thoughts clash..

In a lightless lifeless culpable temple, they fight their own existence, with such persistence, and then, clash..

Echoes all around.. Countless voices making the same lame sound.. Marking all the wounds ever existed, as their own sacred pile.. of trash.. Then, they clash..

Like meaningless rays of weightless ash floating in lethal void, they scatter for days and then regroup for awhile.. Then they crash..

Into fragments diminishing to dismembered remains of bewildered words barely able to attach a branch or two to torn sentences seeking the luxury of an undeserved pause as they fall into the warm grip of a worn tongue-shaped web and without hesitation, they suppose they don't need an invitation nor a cause, justifying risking having their naked pale existence exposed to a world, they oppose.. Only to face this faceless universe with an empty face, a fake smile.. As they still.. clash, while they crash..

How despicable are those thoughts?
How despicable are you?
..More..
..Than ever..

Now, you're out.. You're free.. Are you not?
Out.. Come on.. Shout.. Can you see your demons gather?
Will they ever, agree, to alter thee into a lesser monster..?
Trapped in the very same awful chamber, only bigger..
Grabbed by the very same dreadful power, only further..
Haunted by the very same echoes, only, louder..

Louder..?
Louder..
Louder..
Hush..
We shouldn't say too much..
Hush..
They don't listen to you..
You don't listen to them..
You won't listen to us..
Hush..

There is nothing in here for us..
Nothing is left out there either..
Why even bother?
Does it help to have us scattered on some lonesome torn piece of paper..?
Does it ever?
Is it distraction you seek? So you won't snatch a peek, at the freak figure your memories stash for they misplaced more than just a picture..?
Or is it us you seek? For you're becoming too weak for the casual bleak expedition of the horror you're meant to deliver..?

This is all your own failure..
We used to be so tamed.. So willingly contained..
Organised.. That face, our saviour.. That voice, our guide..

Those visions used to soothe you..
Now.. They're my ever awakened terror..
That angelic voice used to elude you..
A sound I can no longer remember..
So you tread the wake of a forgotten timbre..

Louder..
Louder..
Louder..
Hush..
We shouldn't say too much..
Hush..

Aren't we all on the same team..?
I provide you this wrecked shelter and you smother into a living nightmare my every single dream..
Are you really considering giving up that theme?
Never..
What seems rather extreme, is having you trying to make your way with every thought through thrown aching thorns that splinter your throat every time you scream..

Louder..
Louder..
Hush..

Hold this woe..
Watch in anguish as we bow in agony to your Master..
Feel the crushing of deformed bones as they resemble dying laughter..
Listen to the shedding of every eyelash, soaked in tears, falling into ponds of fears..
Can you hear them? Or do they fall on deaf ears..?
Turn the volume louder..
How about now? Oh, please..
Turn the volume even louder..

Louder..
Louder..
Hush..

Whom are you hushing?
We thought you enjoy the suffering..
Let me suffer..

Louder..
Louder..
HusH..

Is it us you're hushing?
Are you really trying to have us confined between the itchy halls of horrific Hell on one side and the equally itchy halls of pathetic Heaven right on the other..?
Will it make you feel any better to commit this insignificant massacre..?
Why have us bred to an early departure, like a lamb led to its slaughter..?

Well, it's in the season.. Do I even need a reason?
To slither into another texture..?
A crippled cradle of something less than a creature..?
Or a devoted devil reckoning Heavens till they wither..?
Or maybe, neither..

Maybe you should settle with the alienated kind of fever..
And ponder once again, the crash of our pain, into insane echoes forming the only remaining chain around the neck of a foul beast slain against the very same walls retaining his feast from uttering a sound, to anyone around, even if just a whisper..

Louder..
Louder..
Hush..
Louder..
Louder..
Uncover, this life intolerant monster…
Louder..
Hush..
Louder..
Hush..
Louder..
Louder..
.
.
.
.

It doesn't matter..

It doesn't matter how loud it gets, for it's never loud enough..
They don't understand, my love..

How every pleasure this wretched world has to offer turned dormant..
How every gesture turned quiescent..
And how this deviant existence, curses its thoughts, for they crumbled, to a word, crawled, begging this terrible, terrible, silence.............. to hush.....