Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Asylum
Where am I?
I'm stumbling through the blackness.
I can't see a thing.
It's dark, eerie almost, but I'm not afraid. I should be afraid. I should be very afraid.
There are sounds comming from all around me.
Cries of young children.
Sobs of old women.
Screams of people in absolute agony.
The sounds of torture, death, pain, suffering.
What am I doing here?
It smells like mold and decay. Rotting flesh and disease.
Why am I not afraid?
I keep walking, walking through the surreal ebony fog- a veil of trailing black satin in front of my eyes.
I can feel fingers grabbing at my feet; hands reaching for my limbs; but they cannot touch me.
Still I walk through the shadows without fear.
I feel as though I am being watched. Glistening and hungry red eyes follow my movements as I march blindly through the fog.
I have no idea to where I am headed, yet I know I have a destination in which I am going. Where that would be, I have no idea.
But then the fog moves and soft light filters through- illuminating a figure.
It's a boy. A beautiful boy with skin as pale and flawless as moonlight. His long hair, black as velvet and smooth, flows like the ripples of a pool in the night.
I find my eyes being drawn to perhaps the most beautiful thing about him- the two majestic wings that stretch out from his perfect shoulders. The wings are formed of silky white feathers, so pure and untainted,as flawless as newly fallen snow. They shimmer and glow in the darkness as though they are the essence of moonbeams. They extend over a meter from his body and are almost as tall as the boy himself.
While my eyes are captivated by the enchanting silver wings, like those of an angel, I find myself moving closer to the strange boy.
It's when I avert my attention from the feathers to the boy, his eyes catch mine.
I'm instantly captured by the unearthly beauty of the delicate hazel orbs.
They search into mine, diving so deeply that I can almost feel them touching my soul.
Though his face is young and boyish- he can't be much older than myself; his eyes contain age and maturity. I can tell by his eyes that he has been through much and had seen things few will ever live to experience. He has wisdom in his eyes, and I'm instantly humbled by the knowledge this boy has.
He smiles at me.
I reach out my hand to touch him.
My fingers are inches from the beautiful feathers of his wings, and he's gone.
Vanished. Disappeared.
Leaving me behind, standing in the swirling fog.
Instantly I feel alone.
Instantly I'm afraid.
I'm swarmed by hands, grabbing me, choking me and pulling me down into the darkest depths of swirling black.
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I'm stumbling through the blackness.
I can't see a thing.
It's dark, eerie almost, but I'm not afraid. I should be afraid. I should be very afraid.
There are sounds comming from all around me.
Cries of young children.
Sobs of old women.
Screams of people in absolute agony.
The sounds of torture, death, pain, suffering.
What am I doing here?
It smells like mold and decay. Rotting flesh and disease.
Why am I not afraid?
I keep walking, walking through the surreal ebony fog- a veil of trailing black satin in front of my eyes.
I can feel fingers grabbing at my feet; hands reaching for my limbs; but they cannot touch me.
Still I walk through the shadows without fear.
I feel as though I am being watched. Glistening and hungry red eyes follow my movements as I march blindly through the fog.
I have no idea to where I am headed, yet I know I have a destination in which I am going. Where that would be, I have no idea.
But then the fog moves and soft light filters through- illuminating a figure.
It's a boy. A beautiful boy with skin as pale and flawless as moonlight. His long hair, black as velvet and smooth, flows like the ripples of a pool in the night.
I find my eyes being drawn to perhaps the most beautiful thing about him- the two majestic wings that stretch out from his perfect shoulders. The wings are formed of silky white feathers, so pure and untainted,as flawless as newly fallen snow. They shimmer and glow in the darkness as though they are the essence of moonbeams. They extend over a meter from his body and are almost as tall as the boy himself.
While my eyes are captivated by the enchanting silver wings, like those of an angel, I find myself moving closer to the strange boy.
It's when I avert my attention from the feathers to the boy, his eyes catch mine.
I'm instantly captured by the unearthly beauty of the delicate hazel orbs.
They search into mine, diving so deeply that I can almost feel them touching my soul.
Though his face is young and boyish- he can't be much older than myself; his eyes contain age and maturity. I can tell by his eyes that he has been through much and had seen things few will ever live to experience. He has wisdom in his eyes, and I'm instantly humbled by the knowledge this boy has.
He smiles at me.
I reach out my hand to touch him.
My fingers are inches from the beautiful feathers of his wings, and he's gone.
Vanished. Disappeared.
Leaving me behind, standing in the swirling fog.
Instantly I feel alone.
Instantly I'm afraid.
I'm swarmed by hands, grabbing me, choking me and pulling me down into the darkest depths of swirling black.
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