Black Cat Moments

http://www.youtube.com/@BlackCatMoments

The simplified story showed Southerners fought for economic preservation while Northerners fought for economic expansion. Eventually, the crude curse of slavery, enmeshed in the sins of those grey and blue ancestors, would settle the score at its final resting place–Gettysburg. Theirs was crisped and folded flesh receiving no eulogy, no casket, no white lilies, no heirlooms, and no formal burial rites. Theirs remained a smoked skin exposure the elements embraced. Theirs were leftover broken limbs sucking themselves back into resignation, back into the hot dust. Theirs was a darkening of blood the warm sun baked.

Yet, during cannon blasts, there he sat, two-faced Lincoln himself, who was heard many a times hummin’ and a singin’ that Old Dixie anthem. But those ancestral blues and greys, through all that black haze, kept a loadin’ and a firin’ off ’em cannons. Silence was heard all around the drenched ground for it was death’s reply to a descendant. Daylight, transfixed by desolate and distant tranquility, had revealed a ghost most terrifyingly beastly. Nevertheless, it hid itself during nightfall where thick oak trees, twisted roads, and stretched out, pitch-black grass disclosed and displayed a very lovely, muted creep-show.