'They are waiting for you...'
A figure stands at the end of the street,
with a smile like a knife...
and a heart fashioned from lead,
You walk closer...
and the stones echo your intent,
he beckons you nearer still...
'They are waiting for you,'
the figure whispers into the breeze...
'tyrants and kings have gathered,
and now the only missing piece is you...
For the Sinister Meeting Room calls,'
Mechanical noises boom from the sky...
and as you stand before him,
ash rains down...
'We are standing amidst a war' he proclaims,
to you as your clothes are smudged black...
'the whole of the world,
turning backwards and In...
we must run,
we must run...
now,
Lest the stars die while we are still watching...
and the streets break apart,
so come with me now...
and soar.'
The figure spins away from you and grabbing your arm he climbs,
far up the tallest light pole...
his nimble footsteps ringing in time,
Once at the top you sway and stare...
as the figure he roars and then slams his fist down,
The light pole upon which you balance...
suddenly splits in two,
and a world of colour seeps out...
as he grasps your hand and pulls you through,
leaving the earth you know behind...
Chaos and mayhem,
colour and dark...
fill your mind to the brim,
as you travel past the secrets...
held by the Sinister Meeting Room,
He shows you things...
wonders of old,
of the octopus that exists at the centre of it all...
swirling and stretching at the farthest point of the universe,
He shows you the bones of the earth...
and how the music they make is the beat of a drum,
and he spirits you across ten million waves...
until eventually you arrive at a curtain,
that sits by itself amongst the clouds...
He ushers you in,
with a nod and a wink...
and the darkness of night consumes you full,
Then you are greeted...
by the theatre at the centre of the puzzle,
you fall into place...
as hands are raised to applaud you,
You sit down amongst a people of no number...
of faceless faces and grins that sift across the shadows,
to you...
The smallest of fish float luxuriously about,
and you feel a wale stirring within your own thoughts...
It dives and bends,
filling the spaces with words that are foreign,
as a single figure with a crying mask stands to address...
you,
and the others...
'We once dreamt a dream,
though it has been lost to us until now...
the dream was that we dwelt within a mansion,
and the doors...
the windows,
we would lock every night...
do not step too close to the windows,
do not wonder why the air you breathe is cold...
for if too close you step,
then the monsters will grin back...
we locked ourselves away from the world,
yet someone opened a door...
and someone let one of them IN,
We did not know what had been done...
until the cold of that world,
invaded our heart...
now we are trapped in a labyrinth that grows,
and spreads and changes and hides...
who shall break it,
none do know...
but we tend to adhere to the Sinister Meeting Rooms' morals,
to break the illusion...
we must break our own reflection,
and all may be undone...
but who should choose,
such a task?'
It is then that you realize...
why you have come,
why you were led to such a meeting...
you raise your hand,
and the crying-mask bows low to you...
and then steps aside,
to reveal a single mirror...
contained within a door,
The crying-mask offers to you...
the smallest of blades,
you do not need to ask...
you do not look at them,
as you lift your knife and aim...
the mirror it shatters with your blows,
and you feel some part of yourself fracturing...
a wind it howls,
and once more you feel the ash of the stars...
and you wonder if it was a wise decision to make,
But by then you have chosen...
your path to take,
and the crying-mask offers no clue...
you turn around,
wondering what is next...
and see at once,
that the Sinister Meeting Room is empty...
Save for a familiar voice,
that whistles out to you...
words that imprint on your mind too,
'Travel backwards and unlearn what you have learnt...
know the smiles for the demons they are,
and to escape...
you now know the way,
because it is only by the breaking that you can destroy the illusion...'
You see a sign set at the centre of the room,
and as the lights dim you stoop down to see...
'The Sinister Meeting Room has temporarily been closed,
and shall be out of action for the next heart-beat...
if you wish to find us again,
Travel deep...
you will see the crying-mask and the smile like a blade,
and we are happy to take you...
far away from here,
for now we have adjourned...
and the theatre plays our soul,
we are unadorned and naked - hidden...
between these million walls.'
A flash of light...
scatters your vision,
and you feel a strong hand pulling you back...
through music played backwards,
and ships that sail across the sky...
until once more you are upon that street,
you see ash upon the sidewalk...
yet the stars remain as they are,
and very soon the tiniest of winds...
sweeps down to catch the ashes up,
and you are alone again...
as you walk forward,
a knowledge of Fate within your heart.
My days have become like limbo....
I have been grounded by Fate, as it were. But I can write...I can write, and that's always the main thing. The important thing. Everything else fades into a grey rumble...and sometimes it's deafening, and other times it's too soft to hear.
I had a thought the other night, watching one movie or another....all the girls and all the men in romantic films...all movies in fact, are telling the same story in a million and one different ways. I often wonder what would happen if the girl did catch the man, and if the man let the girl catch him. But there is no ending to that story, and I have a suspicion there never will. But maybe, possibly...if things change.
Much Love,
Miss CLScarlett xx
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