We're catching ships in the Rye
The vibrations started early this morning...
and the humming, birds of yore.
Paving their way through the docks.
Were you to believe those nights, you fell asleep without dreaming it first?
And the mechanic racketing outside your bedroom window, you would hate
but eventually, one after another coupled with a tracing hum.
You'd drift.
The flight of this time would eventually reach itself, past cities, past everywhere and the speed
of light/time
stops.
And you'd find yourself around again as if bestrewed, somewhere. Torching a heaven’s light as above, watching
the maddening faces of the people frantically putting the fires out. Terrorized, to what its foreignity its unearthly presence upon them..
and it all seemed so harmless in a way a dream...
yet misunderstood, of course. Until, they’d shun you forever.
was it real?.......... .... .... . ...
Some experiences can't be described, but I was running.
The jackals light gloating over me, through the fields
a humming in the midst of dead mountains.
As if "heat sources" the newspapers would describe it; "The bodies where found
vaporized inside out without any logical explanation what so ever, to what end these hikers died of, for it is believed that the mountains was always haunted"
no witnesses, neither footprints but them and the emptiness that would follow, to no end...
To put up these foreign flyers; We’re catching ships in the Rye!
You would start to think "am I saviour of some extraterrestrial kind?"
Following the events like some cult, you'd see them, praying on top of their boxes
inesculent to form any reason whilst listening to the tiniest frequencies, yet to no prevail.
And in their falsed sense of perception, to not even realise...
They're the ones dreaming away...in a fiery of celestial display.
(Another one of my weird explorations, the title intrigued me in such a way I just had to write something about it.
Corrections or misspelling, any reply to this would be great, thanks!)