Artwork

Artifact

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Of all the treasures that have been discovered, this is what was rescued. This artifact. A memory that can’t be auctioned off. A relic scared by nostalgic happiness.

The killing of fathers.

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That morning, amongst the smell of gunpowder and burning Diesel, we realized that the only people who cry louder than these wounded children for blood, vengeance, and desolation are the old men who order the killing of their fathers.

Our only job.

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He looked up into the stars and smiled. “Our only job is to show them that the walls that surround them are an illusion.

The ember.

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And from my nest in the woods I carried my ember into the wind. “Lay down your fire and rest with me.” She said. I replied by running harder into the dry brittle grass. I narrowed my sight on the farthest end of the field And struggled to keep my flame alive.

The king.

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And every night, before he fell asleep, the king would sharpen his sword and count the coins that slipped through his fingers.

A Different Species.

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He stared at me with a look that struggled to seem  Indifferent, yet wanted me to notice. “Aren’t you a clever boy.” He said.  The words crawled up from deep inside of him and  dripped from his lips like vinegar.  I could see a smile in his eyes through  his emanating disdain for me. His…