7 views
Inertia
Each time different shadow would form and try to break his inertia as he stared in the soil of the tree's roots which went in circles, round and round till it was the end of forever. While he sat in the corridor of madness painting his own paths with red eyes- what others carved about him. The shadows changed as the oaths did and so did the colout of his pupils. At the end of the stress he would paint out a shadow so horrondus the flow would switch and turn into insane rhyme scheme with flow switches and needing the skills which only expert would have. A shadow with a peice of art which only he could vomit out of and see come to life in the soil- in the soil with red roots. Tree would grow up on those roots but the bark would be off no use. Killing whoever touched or tried to touch it immediately. A taste of his own medicine. He guessed. The bark turned red with his own hands in it and his genes shared to the barks genetics. Losing the inertia and falling into the directly proportional mass of the first law of motion.
It was 8:15 and he was ready to spin the situation around and not walk into the mad corridor, not losing his inertia at all costs. What one would consider first law of motion. The motion switched abd he lost the hope looking into the soil, it rotated from one clock to the broken clocks which lay on his feet ticking with high shreded hours. Wasted just lying in the dirt, people twisting them to 90. Also the lies whjch he threw at others-Fallibf back to him and nothing else . To pain him in the heart. the heart of the tree withered with swears and Marque wished he could unsee. Turn back from the day he first dared to enter the forest-A pain in the heart now. The wither would slowly become personal and with a sword af his neck especially having his name no cap
The rotataion turned to the smells of the sword which would be or already maybe was on his neck. The dirt was changing as he had always seen. Nothing different. And sk it was that rotation turned again when the whither- The pain- pain was irrelevant. Until coming back, knocking with the name of nostalgia and chomp a huge knife through his throat- All in the name of good 'nostalgia'. The dirt started to go all over sucking his mind in but..leaving his body as a spectator
To be continued
A short story don't worry lol..
© Kshitij sathe
It was 8:15 and he was ready to spin the situation around and not walk into the mad corridor, not losing his inertia at all costs. What one would consider first law of motion. The motion switched abd he lost the hope looking into the soil, it rotated from one clock to the broken clocks which lay on his feet ticking with high shreded hours. Wasted just lying in the dirt, people twisting them to 90. Also the lies whjch he threw at others-Fallibf back to him and nothing else . To pain him in the heart. the heart of the tree withered with swears and Marque wished he could unsee. Turn back from the day he first dared to enter the forest-A pain in the heart now. The wither would slowly become personal and with a sword af his neck especially having his name no cap
The rotataion turned to the smells of the sword which would be or already maybe was on his neck. The dirt was changing as he had always seen. Nothing different. And sk it was that rotation turned again when the whither- The pain- pain was irrelevant. Until coming back, knocking with the name of nostalgia and chomp a huge knife through his throat- All in the name of good 'nostalgia'. The dirt started to go all over sucking his mind in but..leaving his body as a spectator
To be continued
A short story don't worry lol..
© Kshitij sathe
