A WEAPON SHAPED HEART

Loving creatures at the end of Earth, when you gave it all already there is still so much more to give. Take the bread out your mouth, search in your pockets maybe for some little alms, because there is a love request coming, from somewhere, every single moment. One accumulates on top of the other, being buried in piles, without response, at some forgotten drawer. This department is ever growing and new wings are expected to be opened. As the requests get no answer, they leave behind a trail of mutilated bodies, with a whole in the middle of the chest. Some let the apple get rotten as their new heart is just but being shaped, some let the process to continue, decomposing and mutating. There is a memory of that that dyed one of my layers, it turned stone and sustains the building. What an irony, the weakness got transformed in strength. Actually, you can call it a weapon shaped heart after seeing what is going on there outside. It is good to use it often, to shoot some hatred filled parishioners. Loving creatures listen well, keep your hearts alert, twenty-four-seven they might receive a request. Keep the delirious state up, the madness suit on and jump down the stairs as if your life would be depending on it. Because believe me, the world lives in such a need, and this baby cannot be mistreated. We don’t want to create more monsters, do we? B_Nour