A Purposeful and Delicate Slaughter

As I breathe into the world, what is there left to see? What colors run through the trees anymore? What mysteries still decorate the seas? Only shreds of the unknown remain in a world of clanking gears and turning knobs.

At a pace unsurprising, and certainly lacking haste, a creeping fog strangles beauty from the stars. Suffocation comes slowly, as names are cultivated for the dazzling lights above. More thick clouds wriggle in, and soak the skies with a poisonous grey mist. Stealing the wonder, and dissolving the riddles of the world, this wispy specter drifts endlessly. Consuming the globe, and painting it with a single brush, the fog blots out the unknown, leaving the world smothered in a technical web of progress and enlightenment.

Forward, it marches.

Progress, it makes.

Answers, it seeks.

There are numbers tattooed on the winds, calculations spelled out on the waves. Decimals and fractions pinpoint minute differences and changes. Scales and graphs, values and charts are all erected by the same overwhelming force. Exploration and documentation; the purposeful and delicate slaughter of the quiet mysteries of the world.

Swords and axes are clumsy instruments used to conquer human beings. They are inexact and brutal weapons that simply hack and smash through bones and teeth. Microscopes and calculators are tools used to subjugate the silent questions, and the nonspeaking enigmas. They are precise in nature, and polite in use, even when dismantling and butchering.

Forward, it marches.

Progress, it makes.

Answers, it seeks.

As I breathe into the world, what is there left to see? What wonders grow in the darkness of the forests anymore? What mysteries lurk and creep along the sea floor? Only mutilated riddles remain in a world mapped and tortured by numbers.

Today’s Daily Prompt was portion.

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