The Smile of the Unvanquished

beleaguered by a sumptuous exposition of goods and chattels, liable to abrasion of time and climate, drowsy in puny self-indulgence outstaring the stately vacuum of pomp; a stalemated afflicted "life" ripples to squander. and people you know best, knowing by heart the chapters of your open book, they will indeed never turn their back on you and suffer you gladly, an itchy scab. though, your expedience is franchised to a swap transaction, lite-version. a patient sighs relieved that he may still get hold of a consultation despite their hurdled succinct agendas. finally, no longer insanely dashing onto the centerpiece of tempests galore, neither carrying stubborn resistance nor bowing artful as taunt, bane reaches its conclusion. swindled into joining the calamities promoted to accomplice of this beast depraved and cruel; resigned like a leaf torn loose from the canopy, windswept readily to nowhere.

a sad soul listens to the rain pattering against the door. the litany of the shrieking wind carries a melody of hate and knock out any trail of thoughts, while wood works and walls protest with catatonic pertinence that match the mellow stillness of this loner whose eyes ache under the strain of warm hopes and brilliant mental exploits, sailing to perdition. open sea: the body of water cavorts with the seething lust of the gale, they turn and twist in vertiginous pitches, their heaving collapses in droning rumbles, excreting white horses running afoul towards the pristine shore of a land hunched in a frozen woe. in all its exaltation, the sea emerges as the deeply furrowed face of an elderly man, in pain and struggling to breath, smothered as he is in the foggy gray curtain of an unkempt beard, while hours or seconds pass by in an eerie limbo that is deafening in its all-encompassing silence. the individual opens the door, his cries bring no tears, his shouts...