Perpetual Injustice
finale
I had a friend.
Her name is Hazel Light.
And this is the perpetual injustice that she had to succumb.
Until she ended up in corpse.
She was kind, light-hearted and amiable.
Once she lived, she was a nice friend I could lean to.
But somebody broke her, stepped on her, and terminated her.
Father.
What a subtle word.
I was accustomed hearing her called that man with that label.
That man who deared her;that man who exploited her.
I wander,what was a figure of a father supposed to do?
Perhaps,this question came to me because I didn’t have one.
Well,for sure not to use her.
Hazel came to my home that night.Drenched in melancholy of the liquid that trickled down to her hair to every part of her body,and tattered by the world. Her eyes flashed anguish and agony.
She fell,for me.
I wished.
I caught her lithe arms,and brought her up to my torso.I infolded her in a hug.
As tight as I could,as warm as I could;attempting to transfer all the warmth inside of me to her so she could feel the summer within her.
"Hazel, what hap-“
“Please”
I fetched her in,and her uncontrollable sobs resonanced to my ears;sending nails and spears to my core.
Nobody should ever receive this kind of treatment.
Screw everybody; Hazel should never receive this kind of treatment.
And she fell into a deep slumber,making the world seemed safe and sound.
I wept;I wept for her.
But it didn’t came out.
And I slept, keeping Hazel on the track.
I saw that man, that father.
That daft useless human being who killed my friend.
Who killed my friend’s core.
Who tattered it away and threw it somewhere, in this world.
He should’ve died earlier.
Before he killed her.
Before he killed me,also.
She died.
Hazel died.
Hues of purple bespattered across her baby white skin,and marks of strangling actions left her
neck a deeper shade of red. She shouldn’t die like this; stark-naked with nothing but only a white coverlet concealing the middle-part of her body.
That man sat by the chair beside it,draped in a bathrobe only.
A gunshot left him stunned.
A mark in his head left his head empty.
A piece of his brain splattered out left me in daze.
So,he did have a brain after all.
And I tightened the rubber gloves that draped my hands,placing the mouth of the gun in his mouth.
“May you rest in piece.”
And the men died.
Her name is Hazel Light.
And this is the perpetual injustice that she had to succumb.
Until she ended up in corpse.
She was kind, light-hearted and amiable.
Once she lived, she was a nice friend I could lean to.
But somebody broke her, stepped on her, and terminated her.
Father.
What a subtle word.
I was accustomed hearing her called that man with that label.
That man who deared her;that man who exploited her.
I wander,what was a figure of a father supposed to do?
Perhaps,this question came to me because I didn’t have one.
Well,for sure not to use her.
Hazel came to my home that night.Drenched in melancholy of the liquid that trickled down to her hair to every part of her body,and tattered by the world. Her eyes flashed anguish and agony.
She fell,for me.
I wished.
I caught her lithe arms,and brought her up to my torso.I infolded her in a hug.
As tight as I could,as warm as I could;attempting to transfer all the warmth inside of me to her so she could feel the summer within her.
"Hazel, what hap-“
“Please”
I fetched her in,and her uncontrollable sobs resonanced to my ears;sending nails and spears to my core.
Nobody should ever receive this kind of treatment.
Screw everybody; Hazel should never receive this kind of treatment.
And she fell into a deep slumber,making the world seemed safe and sound.
I wept;I wept for her.
But it didn’t came out.
And I slept, keeping Hazel on the track.
I saw that man, that father.
That daft useless human being who killed my friend.
Who killed my friend’s core.
Who tattered it away and threw it somewhere, in this world.
He should’ve died earlier.
Before he killed her.
Before he killed me,also.
She died.
Hazel died.
Hues of purple bespattered across her baby white skin,and marks of strangling actions left her
neck a deeper shade of red. She shouldn’t die like this; stark-naked with nothing but only a white coverlet concealing the middle-part of her body.
That man sat by the chair beside it,draped in a bathrobe only.
A gunshot left him stunned.
A mark in his head left his head empty.
A piece of his brain splattered out left me in daze.
So,he did have a brain after all.
And I tightened the rubber gloves that draped my hands,placing the mouth of the gun in his mouth.
“May you rest in piece.”
And the men died.
♠ ♠ ♠
thank you for those who read this