Son Survival and the Rankling Sun

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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