She mocks me. Her infectious radiance saturates my nerves and I can’t help but be overcome by her golden luminescence. She is a beacon–a lighthouse in the storm. But brave mariners must be wary. She is surrounded by rocky shores desiring to claim hearts for their mistress. At those moments, she becomes a siren luring men to their doom with an irresistible beauty. But still I seek on.

Her purity is an assassin lurking in the shadows of my heart. It waits—it contemplates—it negotiates with my own secret society of mental Judases. Plotting death by verbal intercourse. Scheming my undoing with a righetous vehemence. I am a doomed man in an iron mask. Locked away in my prison of luxury and beauty. I want for nothing but freedom but remain a captive in velvet chains. My every desire catered to through the tiny spaces between cold, iron bars. If I could, I’d plummet from these horrid heights and shatter on the rocky crags below. But I can no more step off that precipice than I can deny the silken sighs that scream at me from across unfathomable voids.


About Universal Shift

I am the Sonata Unusual. I coat myself with some obtuse angle too far below zero to become any warmer. I create motivation, activate schemas, moisten gardens with scents of natural honeydew. Construct this meaning, you sleepy flock. Silence your singing—despairing contortions out of tune. Shatter the brittle butterfly glass with your hideous wailing. I am born of my god’s imagination. When I die I shall meet him. For there are many things to discuss over tea…or scotch.

Posted on February 23, 2012, in Author, Fiction, poetry, Religion and Spirituality, Uncategorized, writing and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. I love your blog! Please check out my new blog

  2. Totally captivating, word to word – love it.

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