If the lamb see's the knife, she panics.
One two, one two, one two, three four. Steps are not counted as they drum steadily against the soil. There is no second guess nor second thought to the manner or direction in which paw comes in contact with the earth. He is silent, he is stoic, and he is deadly. Pale evergreen irises take in all that surrounds him; observing, calculating, learning. It is all stored away in different compartments of his brain, some for later use, some for current use- and even some that will never be used. For no knowledge is deemed as trivial and unimportant. Regardless of the fact it might be quite obvious as to a lack of purpose- it is knowledge all the same.
Her panic seeps into the meat.
Though he knows his current surroundings well enough even with eye lids at their closure, this is new territory to him. But not only new territory- it is new land. New scent, new soil, new water- new life. It is something he has known well over the years, and something he has never considered out of the ordinary. He knows it is the way of life to continue forward. He knows of cycles, he knows of change, and he knows that life does not stand still for anyone. It is a constant flow one must keep up with if they wish to remain with their skull above the drowning surface.
Darkens it.
And so he does what he's always done best- continue moving forward. Continue breathing, continue living. To the furthest extent of his capabilities- it is a never ending path that he has chosen, one where he will never be able to truly say to himself 'I'm done.' The only moment that life is ever done, is the moment the reaper envelops one within an embrace and guides them to oblivion. He does not believe in an after life. He does not believe in rebirthe. What he does believe in is what he sees. Cycles. Constant recycling of energy, to and fro, and fro and to. From every which direction it spews from- it branches off in even more ways than one can possibly ever hope to dream of.
Fouls the flavour.
It is all never ending, and yet there is always the ultimate end of death.
it didn't work out
you're too sensitive |