Erudite Destruction.

I sat in the rain with the world at my feet and I sighed. Staring into it's eyes; it's limitless gaze. I swooned amidst the tragedy of a starving visage. I cried at the birth of morning light; Of the sun dappled vastness; the twittering congregation that scorned my affections with ignorant, cheerful song. The rain continued to fall in shivering waves. Each droplet a wish I never made, a promise I never kept, a conclusion I never dared dream. While the trees sang in unison, each leaf rejoicing as my screams refused to interrupt their hedonistic sunrise. The morning opened its jaws; wide, loose and jagged, like the sharpened words of an ex lover. It spoke to me in tongues and sang to me in Dutch. I sat abashed, vainly interpreting such linguistically tainted insight with a gaping mouth and clenched fists. Revelling in the sadness of misunderstanding. I merely nodded then, smiling warmer than the rising sun, pretending that I had the slightest idea as to what the morning was all about. It laughed in my face. Offering me a hand and a look of condemnation, with a saddened smile that was too brief to register. Our palms met and I shuddered at the plainness of its touch. Onward we walked, as I marvelled at my fellow inmates. Rotten fruit of damaged trees, walls left unpainted, Stories that had reduced their writers to tears and disbelief. Tangled, weeping, sceptics. Erudite destruction. I would have screamed, had the night not already covered by mouth with the dark skin of a slender, furtive hand. I watched with disdain, knowing I was among my kin; I was one of the townsfolk in a city long since created and left to crumble in ruins. I felt the bile rise in my throat and the air leave my lungs as I began to run back into darkness. I turned my head so blithely that the morning shed a tear.