A crumbling brick wall stands alone in the middle of a field, blood pouring through it’s cracks. Thorns rupture from every side and the brick wall becomes something more than itself. Possessed by the gruesome creatures that chose to defy the Lord, the brick wall is no longer an object, but rather a symbolic stature of what lies beyond this world. The ground upon which the brick wall stands becomes cursed. Everything that once grew turns to dust as though it was only a pinical of imagination. Obscured by a power even more dementing than themselves, the demons sit upon the brick wall, waiting, tearing at the constant burning within their spirit. The wall that once stood so strong is now powerless. It is crushed beneath their power and power of their more.
Their more is what is curious. It chooses a battle in which It inevitably knows It will loose. No matter the numbers, the deeds, or the corruption, it will loose. No matter how great it’s power becomes, It will never be enough. Imagine being trapped in a tornado. That is what It has trapped Itself in; a tornado with pitch black winds so strong that the only hand able to with stand it’s power is the Lord. It travels in circles gaining speed, destroying, taking lives, and yet It cannot last forever – no matter the destruction.
The brick wall still seeps with blood. The blood which now covers every brick, soiling the thorns, causing them to drip and be dripped. A demon posessed mind image that can only withstand a distrusting thought.
LIFE _COULD_ BE_ THIS_IMAGE_WHICH_WE_CANNOT_CREATE_NOR_DESTROY
Words appear. Their meaning and stature unknown to those who do not know and clear to those who choose to accept. The Brick wall begins to lean. It is being further crushed beneath the power. If only it would trust and choose to accept. Can it accept? After all it is only a brick wall, an object without meaning. But then why possess it? Why choose it?
Do you want an answer?