The sun sparkled out the deep blue yonder, clearing the haze, its rays like vigorous beams of freshness. She saw them beams enter through the window, saw the dust mites dancing in the splendor, resplendent in their misplaced joy. She sat there thinking to herself; a day of this beauty, this magnificent clarity, this warming glow; could only usher in a night of felicity, of rapture. Paradise.
The euphoria of the day perpetuated into the evening. She persevered. They were a corporeality of the past. Anterior. Forgotten. Extinct.
Ah! The night of abandon, free of restraint, free of those voices, of the chase. Free of the demons. Yes! the demons, the very demons of her dreams; they were defunct today. Annihilated by the blinding dazzle of the day. Complacent in her belief, she slept.
She was running. Running too fast, running too slow. She thought she could leave them all behind but she knew that they would catch up. They would soon tire she thought, they ought to. They cast their net, she was trapped and butchered. She was made of thicker skin, the knife couldn't surely cut through her. They used the cleaver to slit her throat. The faster she ran, the closer they got; the farther she got, the bigger they loomed. She was starting to hurt, could feel the trickle of blood, drenching her, soaking through her clothes, it was surely the sweat, her leg starting to give way. They were stripping her off. She was starting to like the pain, the shame. There was pleasure in it. She got away, she knew inside and they carried her off on the harpoon. They were, the demons that resided in her dreams.
The desolation tossed her all over the bed, so she crawled under the covers and slept with her demons instead.
The euphoria of the day perpetuated into the evening. She persevered. They were a corporeality of the past. Anterior. Forgotten. Extinct.
Ah! The night of abandon, free of restraint, free of those voices, of the chase. Free of the demons. Yes! the demons, the very demons of her dreams; they were defunct today. Annihilated by the blinding dazzle of the day. Complacent in her belief, she slept.
She was running. Running too fast, running too slow. She thought she could leave them all behind but she knew that they would catch up. They would soon tire she thought, they ought to. They cast their net, she was trapped and butchered. She was made of thicker skin, the knife couldn't surely cut through her. They used the cleaver to slit her throat. The faster she ran, the closer they got; the farther she got, the bigger they loomed. She was starting to hurt, could feel the trickle of blood, drenching her, soaking through her clothes, it was surely the sweat, her leg starting to give way. They were stripping her off. She was starting to like the pain, the shame. There was pleasure in it. She got away, she knew inside and they carried her off on the harpoon. They were, the demons that resided in her dreams.
The desolation tossed her all over the bed, so she crawled under the covers and slept with her demons instead.
