freedom – Page 114 – elancharan gunasekaran

each night the tome tears off a page or two and feeds it to the fire to keep the worlds imagined alive

the beast walks amongst us with its mouth agape drinking from the overflowing fountain of human emptiness

we listen we remember the winter wind does neither she bites at the living who ignore her

days dissolve into mist the freed golems listen to the birds and carve poems into cliffsides

a stranger plucks the strings of winter winds the black grey of storm clouds unravel as lightning rains down obliterating the fleshlands until fingers can play no more

in a tower of metal tongues traders sell fireflies bottled in bones

winter dawn the sparrow is a reminder that freedom comes with a catch: wings

perhaps the memory is stored in a different dimension and regurgitated by the human brain when required indicating an efficient and strange bio mechanism that triggers subconsciously

chaos does not archive it devours as pages crumble from a dark touch

the honey has soured the wildlings barely exist and the trees speak in anger grinding rust between bark and root