What Remains

by Maricel

The hollering and the familiar noise came to a sudden halt as blank shadows drew the spirits of the undead away. In the minds of the holy few, acts became noble when done in consent from whom the floor creaks with restraint. I could not see her vision the way laudators see it; whilst in the hearts of those left to churn on a lifeless responsibility, that act was to lull one or the other, and the many witnesses thereof, of spiteful reasons why things have to be the way it was. In the guise of unaccounted for duty, everything seemed legit, even scapegoating. I could not commend both for the lack of empathy. I have stopped demanding that from a few people a long time ago… But you know, I never stopped hoping.

what remains-hands holding

As the room slips into darkness, I dragged along a dream of the other with me. In a blink of the eye, no one, not them even, seems to realize that again, the boat is heading wayward into a dangerous pit… and no one seems to bother to listen to the deafening roar for help.

Silence took over and the darkness swallowed the ground whole. What remains from there headed home with a slack for more of what seems to be, an inevitable outage in oneness of vision, of goals, of dreams.

To note, there can never be unity without full accountability of power.

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