The Anonymous Artist (10)

Beyond the walls laden with the inscription of torture, the anonymous artist beheld a poem from the narrow land. Language assumed a disparate dimension, mingling with the marginalised to create a metaphor which floated amongst bright colours to the berated shades of brown striving to survive of the fictitious island. A nation was guilty of treason and society embraced an ephemeral purity. The poem imprisoned treason's voice within its own monotony. As colours from the narrow land descended upon the unwanted nationalities, the sanctimonious society was engulfed in pungent shadows, a nationality persecuted with a reverberation of their own malignant constitution.

The Anonymous Artist (9)

The anonymous artist traipsed on the fringes of the fictitious island, observing the dynamics of manipulation. Hegemony's primary manipulation was that of memory - a distortion that shattered a definition of justice through centuries inscribed in patriotic verse. The remnants of a flag drenched in crimson fluttered miserably within the echo of a national anthem. In an aberrant part of the collective experience, society was expected to relate to the emblems of patriotism as an adherence to justice. An intonation diverted the anonymous artist's attention; it was a call from a philosopher to delve deeper into a fragment of renaissance memory, into the shrine of a vilified prince studied within the concrete walls exhibiting the torture of law.

Mosaics

The pebbles succumbed to their subterranean abode. Their farewell reeked of distortion, as their opaque smooth flesh expanded and writhed beneath the dark water, requesting that the silhouette conduct their memorable descent. As he strode away from the water, I beheld the waves subside in gentle gestures, promising to obliterate the sensitive presence on the shore. I saw the magnificent eyes swell, as the silhouette steered me towards the streets that widened and narrowed, depicting our shared awareness in elapsed frames of fragmented portraits.