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red air over th wall

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over a high wall running endlessly in either direction two mobs of opposing peoples of th same village were locked in violent conflict with historical roots long forgotten. often splatters of blood would fill th air like in a quentin tarantino movie

we suggested th editorials being printed in a newpaper from a neutral province far to th west be given consideration, but th publication was rejected as merely an “idea post” with content that was too prejudiced for one side when it took any position and too idealistic to be practical when it did not

after a brief period of peace a young teen boy whose bicycle had been stolen was hoisted to th top of th wall seeking recovery of his property, but th blood only flew all th more violently on accusations that th theft had been staged in order to frame someone

you shook your head sadly saying “we need someone to tell us when we are wrong”

all i could think was how saying so had always led to adverse reaction with all th more bloody violence, while this was what comes of inviting a misanthrope to tell you when you are right

Why do we not listen to our own selves when we know we mean to do harm to another?


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Written by macheide

31 May 2015 at 7:02 am

Posted in oneirra

Tagged with , ,


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