The Duchess of Malfi

The Duchess of Malfi


The Breeze

Laid barren and crushed. Nothing to be heard save the cries of the dying. Here life’s light fades to death’s darkness in seconds that take longer than ever they did when life was but an afterthought. The earth too lies crushed. Literally years now of mans shells causing fires of hell to burn to a pulp this once green idyll.

Now, simply, the land is death.

Or is it? Rats merrily feast and maggots live with an unruly gay abandon. The truth is that in twenty years time luscious fields will have returned to this spot and the imprint of death will slowly fade away.

Can life always triumph death? Not to the dying. Yet to the living?

A X


Whether we fall by ambition, blood or lust,
Like diamonds we are cut with our own dust.
(Ferdinand, Act 5 Scene 5)