Somorrah

"Somorrah" - A portmanteau of Sodom and Gomorrah: The two cities destroyed by god for their "wickedness" in the book of Genesis.

He was a royal of sorts born into a kingdom lavished in wealth and prosperity. A Predicted prophet to a long awaited and crucial role in the high spiritial leadership. The missing peice to the prophecies puzzle. He was to become the great communicator. It was he that would speak to THEM. They who knew all. The beginning, the end, and everything in between. He would grow up under careful protection and vigorous spiritual teaching. He would acheive a point of maturaty and enlightenment and he would become the the Kingdoms great window to THEM. The immediate, sufficating pressure at his young age was sure to form him into a diamond. A diamond to shine out among the quartz of his predecessors. A diamond so clear and so perfect as a plane of glass straight into the spiritual realm. The Kingdom would harvest great wealth and great knowledge like never before. Somorrah threw himself into this life, into his chosen path... he was certain of it... until he wasn't. Harmless questions and wonderings seeded his bright mind. What was beyond the murky water of the kingdom? Arrows started to point in every direction to contradictions and gaping holes in the fabric of his knowledge and his world. The thoughts creeping in like infection, the temperature rising...sweltering. The heat melting away the very fabric and structure of the kingdom, of what it taught, what it stood for, its very truth, THEY'RE truth. The questions and doubts of the masses were swept under wraps. They didnt exist as far as most were concerned. In fear, they had been tossed deep into the forests. There they runoff into the rivers that flow out of the Kindom. Carried far away to pollute someplace else and Somorrah could only hide his own for so long. A question, a doubt here or there can be stowed away to dispose of later, undectected. For some the questions grow exponentially. They permeate every thought and every moment. They fall out of your ears at funerals, they spill into the laps of curious children. They collect in your throat and choke you as you're asked to speak of the very things the questions have tainted. Desperate were his fleeting attempts to thwart them. He knew all to well the grim fate of those who questioned. Somorrah could not stop the questions. And eventually he couldn't stop the others from discovering his overun infestation of them. It was not just questions, it was doubt, it was confusion, it was denial. He was discovered and the veil was broken like a bottle crashing over an already buzzed and dizzy head. They interrogated him, where had things been fucked so badly? His mother weeping, begging. Fuzzy memories of the trial, the confinement, the angry screams of betrial as he was lead through the streets. And as if his previous life never happened he was to be exiled and cursed. They shaved his long silky hair. It was assured to him his light ivory coat would painfully shed out into the color of tar. His hooves would split into that of a goat. His healthy and full figure would waste away leaving him a long and lanky creature. With his back arched and his mouth elongated like that of an serpent doomed to spin evil lies. He was cast into the unforgiving wilderness to walk alone forever in his new disfigurment. But was the kingdom all there was? He would find alone would be far from his truth. Somorrah soon adorned themselves in charms of gold and opal, which shined beautifully against his black coat. His slender body was lithe and angile, legs and body capible of the most graceful and quiet of movements. His cloven hooves grasped the earth like never before, able to spread, able to feel.. He soon did not miss even one strand of his long hair. How well its absence accentuated his long neck. He embraced the slow growing smile of a serpant, and he learned it faired him well. His new tongue could just smell the deliciousness of life. Oh how beautiful to deeply experiance without fear of the questions, to embrace them even. Somorrah, had been cursed to become a manifestation of the kingdoms lies and deceit to the people. To become into what they had been told to fear. Ugly and evil they'd call him. But their perception was not truth. How sad that they were unable to perceive that his given curse was a blessing. They could not see past the lies, they couldn't see his life for what it truely was. What they hoped he would become for them, a phrophet of truth had been wasted, or so they believed. The pressure of his youth and the heat of his downfall created the diamond they hoped for right underneath their noses. A diamond more perfect and more clear than they ever had expected. In the end he had every right to become indifferent, apathetic, and angry... and for some time, he was. But as the dust settled he knew that at a time he was once shelted by the same veil, the same story and the same lies. His path given to him had lead him to murky water, stagnant and devoid of life. But he could make out a fresh one, one of his own. It was lined with teaming life, an unexplored and blank page asking to be written. The path opened to a body of water, seemingly made of glass. You can see right down to the secrets at the bottom. He understood. The people of the Kingdom are blinded, they're decieved. Their chains are taught, their water is murky... and so, where does their clear water lie?