Design of the different | Teen Ink

Design of the different

June 10, 2010
By PalinAdvocate1993 BRONZE, Monette, Arkansas
PalinAdvocate1993 BRONZE, Monette, Arkansas
3 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
"A man is what he thinks about all day long." Ralph Waldo Emerson


The wind sweeps across the desolate cemetary. Tranquility resides in the end. Humility resides in the fact. There it stands, seeming almost as if it belongs, still and overlooked. Vacant may seem the reflection from within, but the mirror is really a fake. Shells cover the passage to the soul. It's hair breathes with a consistency, the only form of change that is noticeable. Unnoticeable, unremarkable, and solitary are words to describe it. Adjectives are subjective though, and the truth is usually cloudy. Packs pass by without much consideration. When they approach though, even though they don't notice it, they actually separate wider as the barrier divides them. Nature takes it's course. Some rare specimens are curious of this entity. They attempt to learn, they attempt to break the surface. It keeps it's poker face. From a distance, it communicates. The intruder tries to get closer, but naturally it holds the creature at arm's length. An unbreakable defense mechanism is always respected. Discouraged they leave like the rest. Fate is the ultimate tailor. It is hollow yet wanting, craving. What is needed for completion is unnatural. The defenses would never lower for such a happening to occur. The stone recedes, the cement is loose long enough to see that one, the one that could be the key. This key could unlock the hidden, could reveal the escaped, could clear the misconception. One shows an innocent interest in it. Sparkling eyes and a wide smile cause it to be unnerved. The match had been met, and the flame had been lit. The reserved was minimal compared to usual. But even still, the lock could not be discarded. The distance was too much, the trial too great. Disappointed, the opportunity turned and walked away. A cold front moved in on the cemetary as the sun sauntered along. The sun was ready to grace something more receptive, something more status quo. A crack formed in the central cavity. The usual undisturbed front was now off by a bit. Would things deteoriate worse? Only time will tell.



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