The world is full of Kings and Queens.
Who blind your eyes and steal your dreams.
-Ronnie James Dio, “Heaven and Hell”
“You can always self publish.” She says with a howl.
My cloudy gaze casts tepid showers on her parade.
“I mean I liked it. It’s that start. It’s long way to set a scene. Grey walls and white trim, OK. I see it in my head but…you take a thousand words to produce a dead body.” She tries to shield herself from the cold winds of my despair.
“It’s impossible to know what without the where and then the why!” Lightning strikes her from my tongue.
“Maybe the fourth publisher will pick it up.” Her shelter builds against a growing anger.
I’m raging inside. My mind created the prefect murder. The crashing of bodies in every room. Each one differently.
She looks back to me. Her mouth forms words that aren’t her own.
You are like a hurricane,
There’s calm in your eyes.
Niel Young, “Hurricane”