by Eikonos

published on

The Quiet Game Sometimes I play the quiet game… sometimes I play dead… sometimes I lay on my back in a September field and listen to the earth hurtling through space… to victims shrieking at all the evil-deeds wrought upon them… then I try to sink into the light, soft, fluid grass and become a part of its mystery… When I can bear it, I try to look ahead… but all horizons are equally galling… sometimes I think I’m going crazy… sometimes I’m my own imaginary friend…

The Quiet Game by Eikonos
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Sometimes I play the quiet game… sometimes I play dead… sometimes I lay on my back in a September field and listen to the earth hurtling through space… to victims shrieking at all the evil-deeds wrought upon them… then I try to sink into the light, soft, fluid grass and become a part of its mystery… When I can bear it, I try to look ahead… but all horizons are equally galling… sometimes I think I’m going crazy… sometimes I’m my own imaginary friend…
- Eikonos
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