The story of the souls

October 27, 2011
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We became so close, the two people whose souls were like one.
The ones that had laughed at each other for so long. The ones who helped each other from midnight to the break of dawn.
Until the clocks hand began to reverse, breaking the link that held strong against the tides of the current, the winds of the desert.
It was inevitable. The string that had been knotted for security had begun to tear, although no one noticed; only wishing for the tape to hold.
It was bad enough that the string tore, the tips of the ends loosening, leaving the edges fragile and vulnerable.
The link shattered, its ability to illuminate a forest abundant with darkness had begun to dim, until it too sparked once, signifying the death of the link.
The clock didn’t stop, only circling faster and faster, in the wrong direction.
The relaxed laughter slowly turned into a disgusting cough, one that lead into blood dripping from the side of their mouths, the murderous lies splintering the safes of their minds, filling it with hatred and confusion.
The time between midnight and dawn; one that was criminal, began to penetrate the invisible shield of the souls, began to seep through the flaws, through all the cracks, letting the dejected and troubled cries from the exteriors in.
And eventually the soul could no longer stay as one. The split string beginning to pull it from one soul, to two. The clock rushing the course of time, intending to make the experience more painful. The blood and the murderer finding the truth and light in the souls, manipulating every ounce of good. The invisible shield beginning to disintegrate, disappearing into thin air as its magic could withhold the forces that tore the soul unevenly.
And with that, the soul tore with silence, the unevenness defining its future.
You had the side with more, the one more wholesome hadn’t been affected by the forces, not even remembering some of it was missing.
Though I have the side with less that was still recovering till now, hoping that its scars and bruises were ones that would be repairable, and would eventually disappear.





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