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Consonant Storm

There is such a planet that in their language

By Lazare HurstPublished 2 years ago 2 min read
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Consonant Storm
Photo by Austin Neill on Unsplash

There is such a planet, in whose language

Vowels on vacation, consonants in prayer.

In their poetry and movies, the

vowels sing and consonants think.

Thus, those voices that are not allowed to make a sound

can only labor in silence and express themselves in silence.

According to local law

it is illegal for more than five consonants to meet.

A constitutional amendment also states that

that all vowels hold in their hands the votes of consonants.

In exchange, the rations of all vowels

are supplied by consonants.

Since the Constitution provides for such sacred equality, the

all nations that speak this language

enjoys an amazing stability.

But what is truly amazing is that

this distant, magical and romantic country

has never recorded love.

A parliament of older vowels ruled that

whispering between lovers was a contempt for them.

All the courts in this country have fallen down

Or are in urgent need of repair.

For since vowels are free to educate

the consonants who have sinned.

and the vowels themselves cannot commit a crime, the

the courts are just an expensive ornament.

The vowels are on vacation for a long time, but they never sleep.

but never sleep.

Although the crime rate here has fallen below freezing.

The reason for the deterioration of the vowels' health

The reason for the deterioration of the vowels' health was always "fear".

One day, the consonants finally ran out of steam and

They all collapsed next to the machines and bulls.

At that moment, the city was filled with nothing but the sound of singing

there was no sound, no sound at all.

Not even death dared to recall the cold of that day.

Although all the consonants who were unable to get up

were taking their medication in a well-documented manner, the

the vowels were in a state of apocalyptic panic.

Even the weather station joined in a prophecy that

Tonight and into tomorrow

There is a consonant storm.

surreal poetry
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About the Creator

Lazare Hurst

I sympathize with all those who do not want to go to bed. I sympathize with all those who want a bright light at night.

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