Only a few will understand these words!

Random waves manipulate the chain of your mind’s perception to let or make you dive within simplest to deepest thoughts. I cannot tell if these thoughts are happy or sad, but they demand to be…

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Red

For a dangerous love

His avalanche of insecurities stemmed from the macho of his rivals- the sordid stench of wild testosterone that increased his envy to unfathomable heights. They took what he desired most but he was nothing compared to what they possessed, unable to fight them for his right to own what he loved. Unable to face them so as to enjoy his menacing desires.

“Not enough macho.”

“Wimp.”

A rabbit in the midst of lions.

She made up all the entities that existed in his head. She was his beginning, his sunset, the backbone. Without her, he was no more a Samson. A meek sheep at the altar. She completed him in a satisfying way, a manner with which there cannot be moon without sun.

“Beautiful rising sun.”

They advanced with pride. Their gait tormented his tender heart and shrunk his loins. They spoke to her and caressed her ruby cheeks as they whispered into her ear. A perverse salaciousness that made her beam in drenched discomfort; one that moved her to dance in their dens.

A character of approval that caused his rage to light up in him like a Christmas tree- a lustful crimson.

But wouldn’t you want to know that envy is such a powerful force? That envy mixed with uncontrollable wrath is a recipe for unforgivable atrocities? Because he had a weapon. Although he was weak in body, rage energized his strength from within. His demand was denied; his protest ignored, and so revenge was the only way he could avenge the love he so eagerly sought.

A shovel. Six feet down carmine soil he dug, until there was no life left in him. And he dug again.

And again.

They surrounded her with howls, the filthy wolves they were; unashamed of the stiffness of their animal nature. She flicked her hair behind her ears and wondered about the necessity in doing that.

She blushed in amaranth; her palms sweaty, her pulse racing, her fists clenched. They faced her with complete zeal, and she delighted in the attention, as she saw what they didn’t. What they couldn’t.

He approached slowly, axe in hand, axe in the other.

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