There have been centuries upon centuries, loneliness was something of a rare gem. Many of the living never understood that. For all they want is a blessing from thee Hallow Man. A tale of fiction created by them. Beggars asking the noose barer in finding the gate to the afterworld. How would strive to be so idiomatic, I could not find the thrills as they do. I have lost track of many fools come to me. Nevermind the creed or wealth. Thee only wish for one thing. And how could be done by another, whose death wasn't their choice. Not in the ways it could become. I know not of where the names they call thee from. But enough is known, that is just a name that is meant to mean something.

To the end, I refuse but to watch them squirm is the slim greatness to have. And I know in time. Another will come. Soon.I heard something. It was just a soft sound. A whimper lost in the winds of a chilly autumn. Youthful and small. A child. Echoing of life in a world made of stone. Along the lines of the trees dome, beyond the stone whitecaps, chipped and weathered.

Aged beyond one's own belief for what these sunken eyes could see. No I'll in that whimper other then lost. The graze of fingers do not go unnoticed. Though, I show no signs of response. Fear isn't what I plan to do. It might have placed me here, but that's not my goal. The touch happens again.

Little Girl: Hallow man. Hallow man.

I hear the child speak. Simple words that are nothing to me but confusion. Hanged as a hollow man, in only name. Still though, in the end the child speaks again.

Little Girl: Hallow man. Hallow man. Stripped of pride. Stripped of being. Stripped of peace. Hath not thee of cotton fiber be a new tie of special offering. Hath them crooked the soul. Crooked the smile. Yet somehow thee sunken eyes are only askew.

The child knows the tale well. It jolt awakens to the touch once more. The giggles are light as the next breeze that passes. Comfort though oddly strange. I say nothing in return.

Little Girl: Askew. Askew! The hallow man knows true of he has done! Hallow man wicked by tongues not his own! Askew in justice! Left to rot!

Harsh as those words may be. Not in the words of a child to say. Awaken as it comes to now, the ground shakes to rattle the blistering words dry from their lips.

Little Girl: You do as must?

I make no reply back. Only a sigh from the child is heard.

Little Girl: Please speak. I only wish only for a friend. Hallow man. Hallow man. Please grant me that.

No words are said. Another motion of the worlds speaks for me enough. Knocking the child away from touching me. The warmth is dangerous. The gravel soon gives enough room, and the child is away. But to were taws not in my favor.

Little Girl: I see! I see now! Hallow man. Hallow man. To the bark that has no bite. Craves words to help. I will help!

Far too young.

Little Girl: I will do what I can and fulfill what the masked tree wishes. Simple bargains can be meant! To soon a friend will be made, I see!

Far too, too young for the terrors of those weighted words. But I am helpless to stop the pain and madness to come forth. I await only for newfound peace now. When soon all to see of those days passing away. And soon, the child returns.

Little Girl: Hallow man. Hallow man. Upon the sky of the sight to many. Grant to the silent words here now. For soon they will speak again. Speak once more. By the next Nox, it won't be whispers anymore.

The child doesn't understand of what is to come. But all the sunken eyes of thee to see, as the ground is disturbed by tiny hands. Digging a new shallow grave. If memory knows well. To that of the tombs, rest in by to those muffle each sound, lacks nothing to what the pentastome will bring as it slips down the lips.

Little Girl: It was to that of young and sweet. Though they who spoke of ill before me, now no longer linger with me. A step of freedom given to thee. For they won't be missed of the most haste waste. Praise when one can speak.

Youth such as this. Shed blood of ill will to those that share no kindness, quickly without shame or regret. The humanity that was once rich in these lands have sour to the years I have come to know. Maybe in time, one can least be saved. Or that only a selfish act to thee. Or that only a selfish act to thee. If anything to spare the problems isn't to be. Thought once again of something else. In what I know in the days arise. To once again, the youth speaks again and the weight brings shiver more than winter itself.

Little Girl: Do you understand?

Understand what in what you are asking?

Little Girl: I am young. I am dumb. I am not of what they wanted. Do you understand? Is that how you came to this? Is that how?

That is not me for to say. I am not responsible for any of this. None. It is not close. Won't ever be for anyone. Fates be damn on things attuning. There is no rest or peace in what the youth seeks. I can't give it. But senses still are wired and keened. Young and dumb explains enough for what is hidden at the tree's roots. To run away now. Is just too late for this child.

Little Girl: Do I earn pity?


Little Girl: Will I find my happiness?


Little Girl: Freshness won't rot quickly, will it?

Damn brat... that's all you are now. Be damned by the tombs. Wither in the tumbles. Thee only be ash now. Be only what you can be now. Damned of the quarts. Damn to you.

Little Girl: There is no wrong in joining those I don't know, it's fine, right?

No. Wasted mind as it comes now.

Little Girl: I heard of the song once. The one of the wrangled burnt man that lived in the trees. Along the lone tree of the stones and craved names. It has no rhyme. It has no tune. It has nothing that means its like you. How could that be true?

Sanity left this child long ago. Long away that would never really return. There was nothing stable here. Time has never really come close, in the memoires now. What could be saved now. As the wringing ropes tighten each century. A century before or a future century. It is unclear. Yet, nothing has really change as it could.

Little Girl: The song said that a tool will set the tone. A blade of silver. Tawny twines wraps. A bottle of... lies?

Lye. A sweet and burning drink. Fit for anyone whom want something of slow and pleasant death. I know well of those who would share a sip. A bitter mother of four that could never keep her legs close for men that she had not wed. A spoiled brat unlike yourself that was meant for a promising future but spat at change against, the goals that would never come. There was a crone that love to dirty her sloth heels in the guts of pets that she ode care to, money was money, that's all she wanted.

Along with a man that had everything and tossed away, because it was too much. Alone they are not. They are just the few, I knew far too well in the sinned brittle world.

Little Girl: Could I get better?


Little Girl: I want to be better but with them, how? How did you do it, Hollow Man!

The glee and wonder will never do you justice, small one. Never in ways of what you could ask for. Leave what can't be alone. You could still leave this world you dare tiptoe around. Leave. Just leave!

Little Girl: Ah! The winds speak for you, Hallow Man! I know it does! I know. It won't hush the spell. It won't. Know that for certain, you won't be alone anymore much like me. Never!

Hellfire's welcomes your poor soul, ye little fool.

Little Girl: I fool to not know of what others want. I will end the suffering that you carry and those around me. Freedom is all I could ask for.

Yet, where you are looking. Does not... exist! It does not!

Little Girl: I am almost done. And soon, very soon I think. You won't be alone. I just need a few more things. Mama won't know. That bully from school isn't a problem anymore. My little brother is sick, and mama and papa are hardly home. I'll have what you need soon. Very soon.

Two babes to the slaughterhouse. And the parents are the shepherds. For shame upon the loins now through the family branches, I can now see that and feel for it as well. To that alone, is only bring dread down my bare spine that swans along the moss and seasons. No songs will sing for these larks that bore out wasted breathes.

Little Girl: I don't ever think my life will get better. Though, if anything, Hallow Man... an improvement is all I could ask for.

So, you ran though the rows of tombs to the oak tree that is an unmark grave. Not as it does now. Never as it does now. Never to you. Or the souls before you, never as it may.

Little Girl: I will be back, Hallow Man. I know. I know for certain soon, you'll be talking back. And then I will know. My tomorrow is not coming.

Whom ever thinks of their tomorrows as a sign of final goodbyes. Does not come close in the pains now. Not in the way of thee. They won't know, let alone remember you. I know all that very well. Too well.

Little Girl: I will be back! Wait for me, Hollow Man!

Blessed as the winds, come to the quickest as they do. The youth is gone, but as time has told me enough as it does. Only a matter of time tells until she returns. It won't take much. It never is enough for them as it comes. The rivers dyed in red and coppers thickens well in the air. A memory still in place. How the cries that were to sound hopefully, hide away into the sullen drowses. Humbleness as it does. Brittle of bones that snap under pressure. Ripping apart the flesh, as if it was the silken spider webs of rice paper.

Little Girl: Another day done. It took forever, but I don't think I will be wearing this dress anymore. Why do the veins must be thick?

Transparency of the fouls.

Little Girl: They didn't fight. It was nice. To be able to have a chance to win. Seeing the lips turn blue. The eyes rolling back. The gasping. Just to see them wither. I don't know how the adults do it. It's almost thrilling as they do. I could do it again. No one would know. Do you understand that feeling, Hallow Man?

That's all they ever were now. Broken in ways that even the horror themselves, die in ways, far from the tales that were woven before. The youth are unaware. They are pigs hung, hollowed and salted. Eyes goaded. Leaked and knurled. How the mighty have fallen as thee do. It matter not anymore as it does.

Little Girl: You do, Hallow Man. You do! Gutted them and painted your walls once before with thee thunder thy colors! You did!

Never again. Nevermore. Nevermore. A poem I read once before. And in the tears even in that, are filling the rivers with enough salt, for the sailors to never return. A rising hope as they come. A lone wander to anyone else. Following a path, that was meant to be their grave. That is all meant to be just that. The youth would never know.

Little Girl: I'll return and you'll speak. You will use your words in kind, unlike the people I know. I know you will.

She does not know. She will never understand. Speaking freely as she does without the troubles. The weight behind them. It will be over soon. And the silence will come forth. Please. God, I never asked for anything before. But give me this one thing. I ask for silence. Give me forth on that one thing. Lightening is all I ask for. Struck the damn again. Listen to the man that bares hollow. Please, bare as it does. Do it. Just do it. Please.

Little Girl: I feel pain. Hunger. My fingers are numb and nails are missing. The bleeding stop. The bottom of my feet are blistered. Has the earth become the sun now? Has my ashen home become a burning star? The steel shoes of the past are back. Hunger again. Hunger. What is this?


Little Girl: Trying to breathe. Trying. Is this sludge... yes. It's so full and bitter. I want more. I don't know why? This how those suffer?

Yes. Soak it to the bone. Take it all in as they did for your troubles.

Little Girl: It feels good. I want more. To be like you, Hallow Man, this is what I must do. If the suffering is to stop. It all must go. Just as I.

Do so as it does. Do it. As it does. Do it!

Little Girl: I will come back. The days have fade so much now. But it will be done. I swear it. To be sure, Hollow Man. By next time, please speak to me.

I refuse.

Little Girl: I will join you soon. Take care to all, Hallow Man.

Burn. That's all I wish to tell thee. Just burn. As the days turn to weeks and into years. You'll age away just as much now. You will go away. Buried away as it does as those in these tombs. Nothing will come close for this. Watch only as your body falls apart. You are nothing but a clay doll, set over the fires to burn. Crisp the flesh. Boil the organs. Fire the hair. Char the bones.

Come down to the hail hellfire's. Do so as those before you. For your only the fool. That's all you will be for years to come now. And in the ones I have met you, it hath not change. Ticking to pass time, shows, you are still a fool. Looking for compassion from a dead man. Who left by thy own means.

Little Girl: I have done everything! I have soiled my mind, body, and soul for this! For you! Hallow Man, Hallow Man, please oh Hallow Man! Speak to me. I have done the final stage. I sipped the poison of the lye. Look how much I grown for you! Just as those you once cared for did. It was sweet and smooth. It burns and rotten my insides. A trail has been left behind, the others might know. They will know! I have grown so much. Everything I do isn't childhood wonder anymore. I will be thrown away. Away from you! Please, Hallow Man, just tell me what to do on how to end this. I wish to join you. Please!

There is nothing for the likes of you. Nothing to come now for this. Nothing.

Little Girl: Please... say something.

Hanged Man: Hallow Man, Hallow Man, Hallow Man... be whom roamed the world penniless. Filled with hatred. Filled with peace. Hung to the tree as a grave marker. For all to see the sin made by one being. Hallow Man, Hallow Man, Hallow Man, the man who had no loved ones nor ones to hate. Shallow to the depths. Dried as a raisin by heated suns and rotten as the most rich. Youth and tender. Gone. Rogue as the troubled to the witches that fill the air. Mated to a sin fate. That's all it fills.

Little Girl: You speak... good. All wasn't lost. What do you mean?

Hanged Man: If you must asked. Then all the murder and lies were done for nothing. And to ask a dead man... you are surely a fool.

Little Girl: So what now? My crimes will come for me soon.

Hanged Man: Simple. Die. Join not of what you want from me. Die for your own causes. As they come. If they firer silver rain. Let them aim right at you.

Little Girl: Thank you so much, Hallow Man. That's all I ever wanted.

I hear the tears in her voice. That's all there is to be now. The silver rain fell in echoes throughout the twilight. Her cries are still in the sky. Along with the copper and acid. It is there. And to that, another hath join me in the tombs. Should there be pride or worry? Never. Not to the lone wanders whom find me. As they are just the living shadows that come back to the body, that is exstanded to the castes.

It has come true. The many sins whom still breathe will come to me. They will come home. As they are in a way my children. I could be proud. Yet, I am never going to be. Not to those whom are only a reminded of what I used to be. My sins are never my children. But they come to me, just like this girl, looking for love they couldn't get from the living. How pathetic they have become. Thrilling almost. If I wanted to show care. I could. But I won't. Because that's what they would want. To the living and dead, they will never get that again.

Never. For, tis just not in my nature. Then and now, of the Hallow Man tales. They sing true, but the ears that list?Are deaf and dumb. Without me, I am not what world should fear. Not in the way they think, that is.