Suspended Incognition

Blasted furnaces.
The thinking and sinking of cellular winking just could not take a break.
For the sake of passing time the grim themes of the movie set were the right sorta thing to get. After all how many times can a man walk down and pretend that he just cannot be?
So here we go.
From somewhere near we start to call out in sheer numbers- shouting away to a glorious day. Bellowing out towards the crowd. Waiting silently in our skulls. Wondering where the voice is coming from.
Waiting.
Waiting to be seen.

So every time the wind chimes in the notes of a distant bell we stop in remorse or respect. Because we can take it we take. Because we can give, we give. Beyond the established madness of sane asylums and normalcy lie the borderlines of individuality.
Beyond the fences lie the blasted furnaces.

The invisible enemy approached the bunkers and the soldiers just fell dead.
Greedy with life the others marched by.
Bullets of thoughts piercing through their brains, they marched on to the shifting sand.
It was a life well spent - bled to the grave.

The sun rises again. Yet again. For the umpteenth time, it rises again.
The light penetrates the dust and guts -
the spilled out spleens and testicles in stark shame.
Decay is such a slow aftermath. Such a languid consequence.

In a few hours an atom was about to be split.
The separation of two lovers was about to be pushed to a new extent.
The birth of destruction was looming in a fractal string of numbers that were awaiting mans decision to paint a gloomy cloud.

The sun rises again.