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Non-Objective Portrait Of Karma
This is the begining of the short story that i just posted an extract from - and yeah, i know no ones read it yet - but i feel like i should post something showing that it's not all mad fragmented sentances...

And the streetlights twinkled out one by one, like the fading stars once held up in the canopy of the sky; now they were torn asunder by the crimson gash that split the night in two, and let the light spill in. It washed through the land, and flowed over the sleeping thatched giants. The lone smokestack wheezed it’s dying wheeze, only to start anew, the toils of another day’s work spilling from its cavernous mouth. Blinking eyes still encrusted with the products of the passed slumber would be slowly regarding their surroundings soon enough. The world was awake. And the world was good.

But then the Shadows came. They poured over the newborn morning, and suffocated what they touched like the slow, thick flow of tar; they clung to whatever they could, and suddenly no one was alone, and nothing was sacred. The temples were not spared; the darkness clung on to their archaic spires, an obscenity that tore the words from the preacher’s throat and flung them towards the heavens, there would be no place to claim sanctuary here today. Wasn’t it ironic that these shadows, the embodiment of true darkness could only operate under the glorious golden sun; that the beauteous giver of life also provided the means for death to show it’s presence?

Things hadn’t always been this way. The world was dying. God was dead, or at least the thought of Her was, Gaia should have stopped this from happening, but man in his eternal struggle for progress had crushed Her underfoot. The ore mining, the countless chemicals that were left to drain through the soil and poison the earth. Man had once worshiped Her, but more importantly She was loved and valued, but no more.

And then the Shadows came. And the world was still awake. But the world was most certainly not good. The rising populace had woken to the silent stalkers for years now, men and women had died with them, joined till the very last. Children had been born. Even the children born with their attachments knew that they were not natural, and did not to hear the teachings to realise that.
Non-Objective Portrait Of Karma
bah, you lot are just scared by my phenominal powers...thats why no comments..yeah, that must be it.
I'd like to see more enormous, mutant bats in your writings.....
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