C. Rommial Butler
Bio
C. Rommial Butler is a writer, musician and philosopher from Indianapolis, IN. His works can be found online through multiple streaming services and booksellers.
Achievements (8)
Stories (243)
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Unheard
Don’t look to the sky for signs. The clouds are just clouds. The moon is a dead rock. The stars are falling embers burning out into the infinite dark. My heart, a guttering candle flame, snuffed out too soon by a sudden wind, inexplicable in this vacuum of space.
By C. Rommial Butler3 years ago in Fiction
Synchronicity
“Man as he has appeared up to the present is the embryo of the man of the future; all the formative powers which are to produce the latter, already lie in the former: and owing to the fact that they are enormous, the more promising for the future the modern individual happens to be, the more suffering falls to his lot. This is the profoundest concept of suffering. The formative powers clash. The isolation of the individual need not deceive one—as a matter of fact, some uninterrupted current does actually flow through all individuals, and does thus unite them. The fact that they feel themselves isolated, is the most powerful spur in the process of setting themselves the loftiest of aims: their search for happiness is the means which keeps together and moderates the formative powers, and keeps them from being mutually destructive.”
By C. Rommial Butler4 years ago in Humans
The Lantern Keeper
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. I behold them from my cave near the peak of Mount Alexia. There are two of them. One is an earthbound serpent. It is very long. I cannot see all the parts of its trunk as it winds between the steep hills below. Iridescent scales reflect the sunlight and render the serpent’s undulating body into a roiling rainbow. Its giant head rises, maw gaping, bearing two sharp fangs that drip acidic ichor. I can see the tendrils of smoke as the venom hits the ground and sizzles into the earth.
By C. Rommial Butler4 years ago in Fiction
CULTure War
Introduction There were many times in my life where something deep inside impelled me to consider leaving everything behind to become nothing. In some cases, this came in the form of the simple desire to wander aimlessly with no care or concern about whither I went. Other times, it was suicidal despair which led me to not only stare into the abyss but left me with one foot hovering over its depths.
By C. Rommial Butler4 years ago in Poets
