This little ditty arose from little boys and hot days.
Son Survival and the Rankling Sun
- Originally posted on a 6s community on July 15, 2011 at 6:29pm
How many minutes would it take to die alone by the way of a tantrum-throwing sun?
Brittle shrieks rise from the scalded earth with a defiance so suffocating and a stubbornness so clayed.
The temperature of rage will not be loosed with the breath of a kiss or the tears of a goddess.
Ash prevails over pumping life, filling up the viscous places until the sun brings forth his wrath from her center.
Only the fallout grants shade; only the desolation of desperate power returns the sun to his formerly nourishing nature.
Cloaked in darkness, driven beneath life, forced to avoid the exacting face of a light too close, too bright, too sharp, we itch in our skin knowing the minutes tick-tock until the rankling son drives us back to his celestial brother.
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