The Hilltop Ballad (The Silent Soul Annhilator)

Between the invisible border and here, the ground was held. A distant barrier existed, but was not acknowledged. The lack of acknowledgement meant survival rather than obvious ignorance. He had no shoes. He had no meaningful soul expression. The light, hollow breeze funneled out of the autumn sky onto his exposed navel and blemished lower lip. The realization that he had no shirt or shoes made little difference in dictating his immediate ability and forthcoming challenges. A mental sigh relieved certain encapsuled portions. The tiny bits and pieces of expressionless soul would make the border visible, and move on towards the barrier. Only cold, harsh responses have been detected. The truth is revealed. It is mostly silent, and void of personal attributes. He understands this, and only this, type of response. It appears in neon shades of magnetic induced halos. Seemingly full of Big Country charm, it lacks tangible assets and aesthetics. Dicouraging, bleak, powerless. Sit Indian style to remain in position. Receive.