Inspired by bekindrewrite ~ Inspiration Monday IX
The EXITs of this world have become the kingdoms of heretics. Camped at the gates live strangers filled with stormy gasps and radioactive bullets ready to camphor any who dare to pass. They didn’t come by their present location by fury or by lead, but in most cases, at least, they wandered lonely as a deer, dazed and amazed to the isolated posts.
One might think with all the hoopla, that peace was at last a dialope, but I fear that is not the case. There will always be revenge. Lost forever are the frituitous moments of glory and gain, and all because of the sagific forces drawing us all yorward.
I, too, wandered lonely as a deer, but frankly bekindered by a local farmer, I was healed and sewn into something akin to jituism near his very kingdom. That alone was my irsatic. I am forever grateful for the pleasure gesotted upon me. He tended my wounds and tenderly hunered me, even though I was different and tinivedun.
On every path, I am told, there are now enthroned heretics and beggars, chiefs and peasants, thieves and saints guarding the exits. I do not know when or if I will access my account, but it will need to be soon, or ide yrting. So many have gone before me, and none donuf cessus. Yet will I valiant afford. Yet will I quish zet all. Thank you for your pishnied. I will flavor it always in gull.
For now … au revoir …
P.S. not sure how to “ping” back?