Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Courtney C.

You were children once…
You looked for magic in bottles and dreams you could touch…
You waited for fairy tales to unfold, drinking them in as if they were water…
You reached up, grasping at things you wanted to believe in, the ultimate façade…
Surrounded by monsters resembling people you knew…
They were ideas that had given way to horribly twisted motivations…
They were everything you should fear, what they told you to fear…
So, with dark eyes and a darker heart you were made a warrior…
Skin molded from stone, feelings created from an unkept mind…
Innocent hands crafted into weapons as you let the storm beneath your skin rage…
You faced a monster with a dream in your hand hoping it would make him good…
You pulled the trigger…
But you could not kill a monster without first becoming one…
For they were the worst kind of evil, the evil that did not believe itself such…
The kind that thought itself good…
Because the monsters weren’t something with large horns or teeth sharp as knives…
The monsters could be beautiful…
They could be so dreadfully typical, so monotonous…
That you wouldn’t even realize what they had become until it was too late…
Until you were met with nothing but beliefs that didn’t fit right and empty justifications…
That was the ultimate difference between you and them…
The unnerving truth…
The fact that you believe in anything at all…
And they do not…

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