Author Information
The Beloved
A shadow upon his back merely laughed at him, as he stood there in the rain, gleaming at what he had done. It was cold, blistering cold, and his breath poured into the air, as if reaching out of that exhausted body of his. As he crouched down to touch the frail body, he cried, a merciful cry that such a thing could ever do this to such a wonderful creature. It took his hand, almost as if betraying his soul and pressing his brain into pressure to commit a deed he had never thought to believe. He was rejected, upon the gates of heaven he shall be shunned, and hell shall only proceed to greet him for the rest of his dwelling life.
Moment after moment he cried, for all the blood that layeth upon his skin crimson, and, almost like scratching at his eyes, the face of his beloved that lay in front of him. He wasn’t happy, he had never been happy. His face, stricken with sorrow, peered into the blanket of darkness, feeling as if god was dangling him by his throat, as he stared into a black hole. His life lay 2 feet behind and his deed lay just only inches in front. His soul had been lost. His mind, fragile, broken, withered, rotted in his skull, the one which only the body of a newborn shall be precious enough to receive.
Why does he laugh! The laughter, the piercing pitch, maniacal indeed! What does this beast notice to induce such a thing! Preposterous, for that on account of incident that such amusement befriend him, soaking into his cheeks and make him merry! Oh, how the day has come that, with such ease, with such immorality, that this man leave it, the beloved, behind! As all the wealth in the world turn povertized, as the newborns stop crying, as the stillborn's stop beating, the gates of hell shall welcome him with the same great ease and greed that this man, who un-daringly gave this up, and never shuddered to think , that his laugh present no more then insanity!
He stands! He spreads his wings and drops his heart, and cradles the wind in his eyes, the cold piercing his pours. He looks down, at his deed and falls. He falls for ever into the pits of hell, and, as if his wings breakith not, he hit the ground with no more then a bounce, as the rest of his beloved spill onto the floor on him. He lies there, cold, breathless, peering into the blistering wind, as if, some small smile still gleams from his eyes. He begins to drift into hells gates, and looks one last time, and with his last breath, he says “Good bye, my loved one.”
