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The thick black river flowed through, spilling into every crack of the road. A million pale faces, solemn quiet faces staring up at the muted grey sky, some with tears flowing out. Nothing to be heard but the shuffling of feet and fabric, the funeral black. Their silent lament crushed everything, their mourning choking out any and all other emotion. No one even dared think outside of their own world of sorrow, though every heart beat as one, and every step matched. Some’s lips quivered, their arms shook, and others motionlessly glided out like phantoms. Everyone’s heart was heavy; everyone’s felt as if a pillow had been pushed down on them, stopping breath of life. Onward they marched.
"Why are we doing this?"
A single voice rended the still air, and echoed off the buildings. For a moment, even the slow marching stopped, and then truth hit them like a bolt of lightening.
Awkward mumbling arose, from those brave enough to speak, this inspired others to call out, and soon a cacophony split through the crowd.
"This is pointless!" "What are we doing?" Cries could be heard throughout the town. The once silent synchronized storm was now yelling, swarming more of a riot then anything else.
- by Symphonic Requiem |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 10/11/2008 |
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- Title: Funeral March
- Artist: Symphonic Requiem
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Description:
A Funeral march, I think.
Black parade. haha. - Date: 10/11/2008
- Tags: funeral march black parade blackparade
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