AnOublietteofThought

~Excerpt from a Moving Line~

Cold was the columns aggregating our departure. They just stood there, stoic and unconcerned—colossal measuring sticks firm in their disregard of our wavering steps.

We knew naught of the journey awaiting us, but fear of the gravity that found us here loomed a foreboding shadow to our thwart. Nary a smile gleamed present within any a shimmering eye, though mouths aplenty were straining upwards towards hope.

Hope...No longer a figure found beckoning for my measly attention. She had her eyes on a bigger prize. One that fed upon the likes of my indentured persistence with the unapologetic joy of a raptor's preening talons.

Yes. Her appetite was razor sharp. What a fool, I, for ever believing any of us might escape between the thin red lines coveting our extinction. What a fool, I, for believing “freedom” was anything other than a lie baiting unwanted lambs to the slaughter.

Hear our baas as we're quietly ground incidental.

Written July 14, 2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.

~A Biting Catechism~

Register the inhumane percussion I postpone. A drill refining honey with the bitter stench of home. Rake my reputation with a coal denied combustion. Deem me effervescent in the self-control you bludgeon.

Bleed my mind. Bleed my heart. Bleed my rage. Bleed my yearning. Bleed my pulse in quivered contest with the structure of your cursing. Read between the scriptured falsehoods strung on tenets trilled as gospel. When forever's scried as succor every thought debates debacle.

Down. Down. Trust flung wide to scale false glory. With descension's compromised, we invest to placate worry. Around and unbound, tattered flight unfurls decision. When entrapped by rigor's fang, eternal vigor sates extinction.

Written July 14, 2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.