The Tapestry

by Walt Hicks

Like a brooding shroud, the Tapestry hangs in a forgotten corner of an ancient museum.  Dark and bleak, it is an unblinking history of humanity—voracious thirsts and desires, mindless savagery, fevered bloodletting.  Ever-changing, it appears differently to all who dare view it, constantly swirling like the Gyre of Life and Death.

I mustn’t look at the hideous tableaux, yet I cannot turn away. I mustn’t touch it; else I am forever drawn into its nightmarishly unfathomable depths. 

Pulled deeper and deeper into its demonic artistry, too late I realize it isn’t a tapestry at all.

It is a mirror.

 

Check our more from Walt Hicks at  http://www.amazon.com/Walt-Hicks/e/B006GQ2N5C/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1424288866&sr=1-2-ent

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