democrazy

brainwash with moving portraits

appearing holier than thou

but actually foes pretending to be friends

wolves in sheep skin

Demons in angelic form

manipulating those in uniform

stop at nothing to have their way

Silencing others so they can have their say

malicious misinformation

deliberate disinformation

half truths and complete lies

looking good from far

far from looking good

using their power for their own sake

spitting fire and brimstone

leaving death and destruction in their wake

democracy with an iron fist

 

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lookin’ good

…She was having trouble walking with those shoes, she hated them. But he’d told her she looked good in them. And she liked it. They were rather uncomfortable, but She told herself would grow into to them. So she wore them tonight, promising herself, unconvincingly, that she would last the remainder of the night. It was only 11 pm, and it had taken her an hour to cover a 10 minute walk. She was clearly in distress, walking with a forward lean and an awkward limp. Her feet were on fire.

But it didn’t matter.

She looked good….

About Tomorrow…

Stop living in the past, its gone. Live in the present, that’s where life really happens. If you live for tomorrow, tomorrow will fuck you up. And the worst thing about it is that Tomorrow never comes….

loyal

via Daily Prompt: Loyal

Be careful your loyalty is not misplaced. You might be loyal to the wrong people, or to the wrong things. Your loyalty should not be a prison, where you can’t grow because it might mean having your loyalty questioned. Misplaced loyalty is always full of regrets.

It Came With The Wind

Kihüruto,  They called it.  “That which comes with the wind.”

It came with the winds from the south, and the locals had since learnt to discern the eerie howls and the characteristic dry winds that accompanied it.  The trees also seemed to acknowledge the arrival, shedding their leaves whenever the winds began, even during the wet season. To the chicken the winds probably reeked of death, the way they panicked when the ghostly gusts that signaled the arrival blew, but I guess we’ll never know. A local tale told of the demon that came with the winds, that could only be seen by chicken. And woe unto the fowl that had the unfortunate luck of sighting the foul fiend. It was not without consequence, and a deadly one at that.

The locals knew it was futile to lock the chicken up. “How do you hide from what you cannot see? How do you hide from the wind?”, they would ask in despair. They had seen enough of this situation to know how it would play out. The wake of destruction left behind. Some were already making preparations to get new chicken from the villages that were lucky enough to escape Kihüruto. The village elder who lived downhill could be heard cussing loudly; he owned the largest flock in the village, and by morning it would be all gone.

The chicken stopped running, a reluctant acceptance of their fate, it seemed. Just like the last time. A cacophony of clucks filled the air, like a desperate prayer to be spared from the demon; all in vain. All this while the fiendish howls of the winds continued, unperturbed,  a fitting background to the show about to take place. Then one by one, their feathers started  falling off. The lucky ones died first, and the smell of dead fowl rent the air. The ones which didn’t die would experience the anguish that came with surviving the “first wave”. They remained still, standing, unable to move, caught in the grip of death as their bodies slowly succumbed. First it was the eyes, losing their sight, a dear price to pay for seeing the demon. Then the beaks fell off, slowly, the chicken with no option but to endure the agony.

Finally the bowels gave way, and the legs broke, dead inside, no longer able to support the weight of the now lifeless birds. And with a last-gasp gust, the winds departed, leaving behind a legacy of death. Kihüruto had passed. An uncomfortable silence ensued. A tension so thick it was suffocating. Most had experienced it before, but they could never get used to it. The locals set out to burn the carcasses, otherwise they would stink for seven days straight, and no meat-eater would touch them. Like they knew it was cursed.