Zephyr Gordon Monologue

“Oh, demiurge of our souls, who reigns in the heavens above, we honour and revere your sacred being. We turn to you and beg you to provide us with sustenance as we strive to abstain from quenching our thirst, with water, contaminated red. And in your mercy, forgive our most grievous sins. Help us refrain, as our desires continue to elude us. Guide us away from temptation and shield us from evil. With profound penitence, we seek your pardon for our gravest offences, imploring your divine mercy to forgive our forsaken souls. May your bottomless benevolence envelop us, guiding us towards vindication from the shadows of our wrongdoings. All authority, omnipotence, and celestial splendor are yours, both now and eternally. Please end this everlasting spiral and provide catharsis.”

I feel a cool breeze blowing on my face, as I walk purposefully. With each step, a crisp, crackling, crunch follows; the terrain is magnificently flat, the perfect conditions for a nightly stroll; the trees are illuminated by the bright lunar host, enveloped by an enchanting elegance; the aroma is fresh coupled with an elusive taste; a
The zephyr invigorates me as I feel an exhilarating surge of euphoria course through my veins, a warm rush of energy, as if a velvet blanket had been cast upon me. There is a harmonious dance between my footsteps, riveting in yours. I draw my instrument, raising it above my head with intent. Played there the tune of death. As he lay there, there was a wound formed on the place of impact, on the right side of his head, a slow trickle of blood started to seep out, the liquid emerged delicately, flowing on his textured skin, tracing the contours and indents caused by the blow, under his face was a puddle collecting the blood from the rivulets on his face. The ambience had changed; the air was arid, covered with the abhorrent stench of the apocryphal death of will. Slowly emerges from the ground a faint breath. I