Pell-Mell


Pell-mell, my spell! Who do we tell? Lost souls, thy frenzied hate! Kill! Knell! Huge black and red jaws appeared in the air through cracks of reality, folded over one another like the lines of a paper airplane. With teeth of glowing coals, they began at once to consume their shrieking victims. Strange were these titans to behold, and awful. One looked like a carnivore-porpoise, another like a mutant crab. They went flitting in and out of reality as they ate like air bubbles a-pop. The effect was somewhat horrible to behold, and yet, not entirely unfamiliar were these landscapes, as oddly akin to our own world they for certain were. A dim redness filled the sky when you looked at the mountains above? Not quite, for this was not usually done, and perhaps yellowish orange was the better term anyway. Shimmering like twilight gossamer, the mayhem works of the wonder known as life enjoyed daily their repast. Windy were the fields of doom, and full of bizarre vibes to stir one's resonance. Dissonant were the discordian chimes that blew with fate. O fortunate planets of men! - have you been safe always? Has no barbarity to blanken thy news-slates ever yet come crashing across thy borders? The grim abysses below hold within their depths, then, much that would horrify thy masses! Will, pulse with life! O intellect, fly like showering sparks! Heart within, beat a drum-roll out like an exploding volcano! Creativity requires all these and more, and this is worth relying on, so that some technology might be conjured up to spare our numbers from such obstinate hideousness as these were. Dark is the land where they dwell, you boob? Waiting for the meat eater dolphins, are you? That takes plenty of energy - like eating. The horizon itself seemed to eagerly chomp and wolf down its ever-coming meal. Huge balrogs and buffalo seemed inherent in the cloudy sky above. Cracks in the tapestry of plasma ran like rivers all around and through everything. Each stunk of darkness, and none had a name. Tornado of evolving strife, how you preyed wretchedly upon this key of a chasm! The frequency-beings there were like moving faces from head to toe, and cartoonish were the myriad looks upon them. Lightning of the gods, struck is the asphalt before our failing eyesight, and bubbling up like molten glass or lava is our terror. O eclipsing sun and moon! Flickering is thy fire, and flamboyant thy endless massacre. Hourglass, why? Panicked forever was the world of pell-mell, for this was its natural state and set and setting. Pitied are its residents, to be.

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