Everything he heard was a gift ever since he received his hearing aids
And this coincided with his daughter having her first lesson for the French horn. How exciting!
Realized the next day, when she began to practice, that the off switch on them was a blessing as well.
Carnage had been prophesied since the day of her birth
Obliterate the evil, or else she would fail, and the world would burn
Many people tried to guide her, their interests, they felt, were the same as hers
Pulling her six different ways at once, she ended up pitting them against each other
Letting their division give her the room to find her own way
Everything was going well. The darkness was beaten back.
The final battle took place, and in the end, she was victorious
Everyone’s cheers turned to screams when she didn’t stop and began attacking them
Putting her words out there in the interwebs
Opened herself up to all sorts of criticism
She smiled as she watched her retweets and replies exploded
The more she yanked their chains, the more they gave her satisfaction
So she cracked her knuckles and began her next trolling
Breathing in sync with the bass drum
Every nerve on fire with the energy of the guitar solo
As her feet began to move to the groove
That was a problem when she saw the flashing lights in her rearview mirror
The music began with a low, moody, ominous bass part.
On screen, lightning played among the far hills.
Nobody seemed to have a plan as to how to stop the zombie invasion.
Except one! She pulled out her phone and that is what cued the Bollywood style dance-off!
Whimsical pondering about how everything works
Observing the universe and attempting to understand the underpinnings
Never being settled with almost right, but wanting perfect information
Determining how everything began, how it will end, and everything in between
Except perfect information is not available, so instead we guess and see how close we get
Remembering when we get things wrong it becomes a starting point for something new
Digits scattered around in a ritualistic circle
It spun and clicked as it began its spell
And soon there were disembodied voices talking from the other side
Listen close and you might hear grandma
Knowing hands twisted and tied the thick cords with ease
Noting where the rope had begun to fray
Outside the wind began to howl, which he thought fitting
There was no better accompaniment when at the gallows
The Art of Prose and Poetry
self-publishing
Tagline
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
Sharing is Learning
Author and poet
Random Stuff I Think You'll Like
Things I love, typically with people I love. Will likely be hiking, baking, and doing other things that make me happy.
Story world
SkEtChEs of my everyday life through tiny words, artworks, quotes, clips, and snapshots--- capturing a moment in time.
Never Short On Words 