Atlas's Burden

By , Lutz, VA
The melancholic surge of water plummeted lightly from the woeful sky, illuminating the despondent loneliness within the wretched man's eyes; his face, harshly contorted into a horrific state of despair and alienation, appeared to frequent the realms of solitude through the meekness of his tongue and the silence that echoed loudly around him, drumming a tune of celestial damnation and of blissful resonance quite familiar to his deaf ears. The rain streaked down his face in a manner not uncommon of tear tracks, washing away the dryness of the flesh and humbling his own dejected self-loathing of the beautiful mind unable to comprehend the beating of a mortal heart. He shut his eyes quietly, granting spectacular vision to eyes used to destitute perception and meager understanding; the tapping of the rain upon the concrete walk, pounding a song of unrequited desire and ignorance, grew in frustration and became more forceful upon the uncaring obstacle. The shadows of his impaired surety entwined the man's grasp on reality with his own antipathetic detachment for existence, creating a sentimental hostility that allowed him to stand tall in the midst of slouching dwarves. Eyes opened, blind once again to his human surroundings, his hand ran nakedly across his cool flesh and wiped the droplets away, smearing sweet innocence and cruel rejection of mankind upon his darkened face. He blinked. Rain washed the bitter tears from his striking eyes and he cocked his head sideways, grinning in a rather wounded and vulnerable manner. His vacant voice rang eagerly and poignantly from the silent void of his mental despair, kindling a flame of pure heartache and desolation. He cried into the unforgiving and nonexistent sky-the rain answered him with continued pangs of redemption and cleansed him of his mistaken mortality. A peasant amongst gods, a machine amongst men. Death amongst life.





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