The Dove

a1c3.77z

Fapstronaut
The squares stay in the same place

All the time, but the colours change.

When the colours change, the mood

Changes and the meaning changes.



Figures and shapes swim across

The glass but, in reality, they are just

Blocks of colour which flash

Like a city of lights behind the window.



In the city of lights, the candles flicker

Through the mazing streets and corridors.

And each candle burns away a leaf which
Provides light for the ground men walk.


The candles are not warm. They are

Cold, circles of brightness, that dim

The light behind your eyes and

Suffocate, a writhing nest of snakes.



There are people, constricted, sitting

With the curtains closed, the only light

Is the darkness of the candle.

And the candle dances.


Peering into the candle, they see

A hope that isn’t there. There was a

Dove, strangled, helpless in the

Coils of the serpent.


Turned away from the outside.

Looking for truth and instead

Seeing toys in a fantasy that

They cannot live themselves.


The dove has died. It wanted to

Fly and reveal a white slice of

The moon. Peace has come

To those who have found it.


Truth has discovered the ones

Who opened the curtains, the

Windows and their hearts.

And flew to join the moon in the dark sky.

I wrote this guys: i hope it helps you see something you didn't

I am failing now and I need something to push me through.
I haven't given up.
 
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