Howl Echo

Flesh torn and skin ripped to reveal a spoiled soul
reflecting back the diseased sunlight
a million miles away
And bleeding from the face
in an endless spurt dripping on the dust floor
filling the wooden cracks and forming puddles converging in
the middle and drowning the suffocation of the bland room

We melt away and stand naked

To be judged and fired at and beaten with sticks and fists and
nails tearing into the soul of being and pulling hair from our skull
in madness and desperation of finding the silent executioner
to free us from our burning bonds of loneliness but getting
laughed at and ignored instead
when muted mouths cannot express loud thoughts
when we are born to look like this
when in sight we can still be blind
when knowing the truth makes us miserable
when we all want to be heard and shout over each other
and nobody is heard
when we forget the beginning and start fearing the end
later realizing our regrets, too late
that we need not fear the everyday existence of demons and
remember behind dark clouds there is still sunlight
and rain does not last forever



About the Author: Pearu Unga is a recent graduate with a degree in Screenwriting. He writes short stories and poetry, and blogs for students (http://blog.grads.co.uk/). When he has time and energy he also works on his debut novel. He is inspired by the storytelling of Stephen King, style of Charles Bukowski, mad energy of Hunter S. Thompson and language of Bob Dylan. You can follow him on twitter @PeAreRoo