A Cadaver's Dream

In a circus of glitter, I am a wisp of wonder. I float,beneath fairy lights, over clouds of passion. I see the world,human souls dancing,burning brightest at dusk. I see twinkling lights sheltering kisses of first love. I hear pure whites of stars dissolved in the fluid melodies of violins. I am the city,I am the mime of street three,painted faces of black and white mimicking shadows of living dreams. I am the city,the red red wine swirling in glasses of gold,footsteps stepping closer and closer to bliss. I am the city, the poetry beyond words. I am the city,the colours Michaelangelo couldn't impress upon canvas. I am the city,of life and living. I am the city, a celebration of big and bright human eyes. I am the city, an archetype of perfection. I am the city,the glowing embers of artistic glory. I am the city, the goosebumps on your skin for beauty almost divine. I am...Paris.

10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3..2..1.

I am the graveyard of unburied bodies,piling on top of each other,souls combusting midflight. I am greasy torn clothes of a previous night. I am death, I see shattered glass lined with blood,blood of the season's best sights. I feel the hysteria as it floats upon the air like oxygen. I'm breathing in fumes of terror and I'm still a city,a city struggling to mourn the red splattered. A city of darkness,plagued with a disease of humankind. I'm a city, a city of light conquered by dungeons of despair. A city,screaming at the silence of the streets once alive. I'm a city, a stench of sadness and breathless tears. I'm a city,paper boats of wreckage gliding on rivers of horror. I'm a city, I'm Paris. Still Paris.

I drift out,lanterns in the blue sky,happy faces shine. Back with bloodshot eyes, a ghost town weeping as the world stands shocked. Dreaming,living,dreaming,living.

Dreaming.
Of Paris untouched,a shrine of celebration.

Living. 
Destruction with pride tingling in the veins running through bodies made of hate.

I was asked to write of dreams, but the nightmares never let me sleep.