Black Saturday. All I can think of is death and darkness. A cave of cold stone. Left, forever, All alone. I am watching through cold blood, And, eyes which are not my own. Watching through all of the underground eyes, underlying eyes, my emotional eyes, eyes below the horizon, eyes of angels and worms, water particles and air, through the eyes of sounds and. aromatics, molecules, atomic nuclei and quarks.
Exoskeletons reverberating like a brass gong, like a holy song. Miracles and blue claws twisting reality into unfamiliar shapes. Somewhere in this grave world where everything is the same color, or transparent, or invisible there is a dreadful path, a path too hard to take, no longer leading forward, instead it’s leading back. Back through everything lost, every mistake, until you can’t take it, ego destroyed.
The air has turned into ink, shutting down the stars. No fans to unfold, No hands to hold. Nothing is real. Everything is internal. Too dry. Stinging eyes. The taste of salt. Black feathers. Slippery steps. The moon too hard and too heavy to rise. The earth the wrong size. A valley of tears. Footsteps melting into mourning rains. Flooding the drains. Nobody gains. Everything gone. Rainbows forbidden. Every disciple hidden. Pandemic in the air. Everywhere. Wandering minds without a compass, Hearts hollow. Who do we follow? Blood rushing uphill. Breath still. Wailing wind without an end. Everything going the wrong way. It seems that today is a very bad day. What else can I say? A very, very bad day, So, stay out of my way.
It isn’t over yet, you know. We have a long way still to go.
Written by V. Castellanos – Black Saturday, April 11, 2020