crossing the line

each thought themselves different, exceptions really. or like spelling it out makes it okay; you know when a splash of red, a slap on the cheek is played out slowly. a hint of pink, a touch on the arms like friendliness, comfort - i trust you that seems to imply a lot of things not yet earned; advancing slowly, a prey smells the scent tries to back away without alarming a predator so much stronger! don't want to piss it off, don't want to be cornered, don't want to make waves as the merciless crowds hold no love, only juicy bits of tendon, scraps, splintered bones - they too come for a feast. of delight the mind, to excite their very boring banal day; they come as inquiring folks - you okay? sounds like a cynic a voice got thrown into the mix of all the confusion when thunder roared in the sky, roar, roar, the angry gods unleased wrath upon silver linings, rainbows to a world unworthy of promises and good luck. what's your problem? another voice gets thrown into the chaos - tyrannical immortals don't deserve worship, protest, protest! voices become subdues when lightning ignites the playing field, and shy maidens are left in strange woods festering with shiny eyes, a pattering of hooves and the pigs they rush in. snort, snort, ew get away from me! but pigs know no sense of propriety, argh, argh - they don't see eye to eye. ewwww. disgusting pigs continue to snort, a heat wave - and roasted pigs come about, cunning maidens, pick at bones, meat, sinews carving leather into coats, decorations, ornaments that would fetch a high price in the night market. a pig goes oink, get slaughtered too - hey, it's a free, free world ... ... don't judge, hardened maiden feast on innocent, guilty alike, no difference in flavors of meat, tendon, all cooked meticulously in one giant pot. that begins to shake, to quiver, with all the howling ,screaming oinks and snorts from within, souls speak out - turns over, melting flaming soup floods the forest floor, and shy, cunning and hardened maidens seek to take refuge in high up caves, but the timing was off: they too are no immune to the wrath of gods where flashing eyes speak - of pink, red lines coming in waves in the hearts where the immortals live, dwell, sleep each plea, each cry, each kill of a unicorn leaves. rage. heavenly rage, not too unlike humans as a wide eyed man's lower jaw fell with gravity's pull. argh, argh that's not my signature, and a contract was signed with a little too much of a good time, shy, cunning, hardened maidens too learned the craft, the trick, the turn the tables over and a man is caught with his pants down! no way! yes, way the maidens sung and silver, rainbow got pieced back together in the chaos: their upside down life turned well. oink, oink, a maiden dissolves from the crowd - her spear sprang up but no monsters were in sight. then a lowering of guard, snap, got taken off by invisible hearts biding their time, seized the moment. carried her off to the caves, up, up in the mountains where melted pig soup did not touch. their peace, their silver wrapped away; then the mountains felt the blasts, the paper contracts felt the fires from above, you tyrant! that voice too shut off almost immediately, like it never happened, peaceful earth once again - with gods sleeping in the hearts, waiting to be awakened when lines become red.