Rate My Writing: Blind Vision

This is basically something i did back at school and i just found it on ma PC so i thort lets find out if you lot think its any good.. PARENTAL ADVISORY: EXPLICIT CONTENT lol
Its sort of to do with Islam, about things that make people wake up, Gangsters wake up lol


Blind Vision is a short story, fundamentally in derivation of the universal concepts regarding revolution. The story explores of how even the worst of men can be delivered from “blindness” unto “vision” and how hope drenched societies and personalities encompass a seed of sanctity. Seeds weathered with convincing elements such as calamity or that of awakening events; stimulate growth out of “darkness” and unto “light”.

Blind Vision:
Deep in the heart of the city that never sleeps, distant sirens echo, Silent screams surrender as gunshots applaud. The skyline cloaked in deep, dense darkness as the moon and the stars and the night cannot be seen. For darkness encapsulates the city, terrorising the day in long, restless and tormenting hours. Strangely the sky reflects the streets and the streets reflect the sky in chaotic harmony, so strange without any light. A few street lights faintly flicker, as though in fear of shining upon the street, as though held at gunpoint and blackmailed. The light thirsty city, lays shrivelled, weak and stunted.

A few hundred paces from the bridge, a once healthy, strong and legitimate light bulb factory now rested in “peace”. Abandoned as a backdrop to the lifeless train station and surrounded in shadowing, heavy leafed tall and bushy trees. The factory freely imprisoned and heavily wounded, like that of a convoy ambushed in its own land. Windowed in wooden boards and extorted from its purpose, strangely still surviving as though ready to rise and once again enlighten the city.

“F***!!! The Castos brotharz’, What the F***! Have they ever done for me!!” habitually raged a man, from inside the factory.

“Luca.. understand - If we take over the snow (cocaine) shovelling, then everyone’s outa’ business and everyone’s gonna be after us” Rationally replied the other man.

“Okay! Okay!... Blind eyes - Lemi explain - if I take the snow - There’s gonna’ be a drought, let ‘em pull their umbrellas out, ill rein on ‘em my wrath… strafes snow starved storms…..complete wipe-out and that’s… without a doubt” Said Lucifer unsentimentally yet poetically.

“How long is you’re Uncle gonna’ catch bullets for you huh?! We need to hold our own game now” Said the other man in random polite hesitant anger.

“If you’re not f***ing careful you wont be in no game for much longer ……………Ya’know what? - I… AM… F***ING UNSTOPABLE – Who dare shoot at me? Haha - Find a man who be blind not, even he were shoot me in the eye I would die not – haha” Said Lucifer threateningly and sinisterly.

“Yess boss” Said the other man fearfully in a robotic routine reply.

“Get the F*** out” Said Lucifer ruthlessly with contempt.

The other man blindly scurried for a way out of the room as though being pulled on an invisible lead, knocking chairs over and stumbling straight into a wall. He staggered and fell at the door; Lucifer suddenly cocked both his pistols. Paused for a moment then simultaneously shot an outline of the Mans figure with impeccable accuracy as the man lay unable to see, like a blindfolded solider caught in a war zone. The single salvo halted followed by a long deafening silence. No one spoke and then the other man crawled out of the room, to dangerous refuge outside not looking back.

The room was completely dark nothing could be seen, even if a figure stood inches away, it was impossible to see, it was as though the dense darkness of the sky poured in through the wooden windows and drowned the room. Lucifer flipped the hinged cap of his lighter, pure light reaped out. It was as though all the light of the city was jailed in his lighter; Lucifer lit his cigar as the light belched to be free, Lucifer slid the lighter into his pocket. He took long graceful puffs slowly inhaling, and making small rings which only he could see. Sitting waiting for no unforeseen reason, strangely expecting something until his phone rang; Ring Ring…. Ring Ring…. Ring Ring…. Ri.. , He finally picked up;

“Lucifer, Lucifer” Said an apprehensive and restless female voice desperately.

“Wasup!! sexy” Replied Lucifer with flirt, ignoring the recipients uneasiness.

She said nothing. He said nothing. He knew something was wrong.

“What… tha... F*** has happened!!??” Said Lucifer demandingly and slowly without thought

“…its…its..” She said lost for words.

“F*** NO!! tell me its not” He cried desperately

Neither spoke for a while. Lucifer sat, cigar in his mouth, not moving, not breathing just staring ahead as though she had told him. She didn’t complete her sentence, she knew he knew.

“Luca - don’t do nothing stupid, pleeease” She said begging softly

He didn’t reply, still staring ahead. The woman was now worried she expected Lucifer to be furious, to be cursing to be plotting as typical. But no, Lucifer just stared ahead saying nothing.

“..Luca are you allright?”

Lucifer didn’t reply. He picked up one of his pistols, took three bullets out of his pocket, and unclipped the magazine still looking ahead, loaded the bullets and expertly clipped the magazine back on in perfect coordination without looking down even once. He paused for a moment; he could hear her breathing down the phone. She didn’t say anything; Lucifer was being strange, quiet and queer, so she just waited with him.

“Rest.. in.. peace… Lucifer” Lucifer spoke tiredly into the phone as though possessed. Still staring ahead, he extended his arm with the pistol loaded and cocked in his hand, and whispered softy to himself “sweet dreams Lucifer” he pulled the trigger twice; Bang Bang

“Luuuuu…” The phone dropped as she cried

The following day the sun now unchained rose in full strength, the sky now a vivid content blue and the streets flooded with light upon light. The flowers slowly budding in wildness, as the trees boasted ripen green leaves. A few birds twittered to the singing of the pleasant breeze and a squirrel stretched, sitting surprised solaced by the swaying sun. The city finally awake after a sleepless sleep, as the mourning gave birth to new life. The woman deeply wounded by Lucifer’s loss, stood teary eyed, with innocent guilt; the gunshots echoing in her mind over and over again. She stared at the sky, bewildered, in bedlam between loss and gain. The loss of Lucifer saddened her yet the new day took pain away, she didn’t now how to feel.

Crowds upon crowds began to pour into the church yard. Gangsters and Police, Nuns and Prostitutes, Blacks and Whites all hand in hand held in congregation to celebrate the morning, the birth of the new day and the death of the last. The gatherers rowed in similitude of one another, all taking to standing awaiting the speaker to the altar. The woman was still standing, behind the crowds starring at the abandoned factory lost in the memory of Lucifer, in a deep summer’s heavenly daydream when suddenly a voice broke;

“You have been walking blind, deaf and dumb, you have become lost in a dark city, a city dark because of me. I beg for your mercy - I can now see. It is that white black blindness, which you snort, that I sold. Yes I saw, yet could not see. Death awaits you, yet is not the gun that kills; it is blindness for it cloaks you in a comfort of illusion, and into loss and unto no mercy and no guidance. Yes I fed you with illusion and you filled your hearts with black white fire. Now I have left the devils way and stand before you begging for mercy and asking you humbly to do the same - So light up your lighters and let the light be free, as you burn me into ash and hang your enemy; Lucifer Sin” Said a man graciously standing at the altar, head bowed slightly, face hidden under his hat, cloaked in long white robes, the figure of an angel.

The crowd stood, enthused; in tears and eager to know who was under the hat as his hat tilted over eyes and his face shone in blinding light thus he could not be seen. The gangsters dropped their weapons and the police dropped their cuffs, the Nuns dropped their veils and the prostitutes dropped their lusts, the blacks dropped their anger and the whites dropped their hatred. All stood as one, as equals, watered in light and strengthened by speech and growing in grace.

The woman standing at the back, stood smiling in pleasant shock, her face full of delight, her bottom lip between her white teeth as a teardrop trickled down her cheek crashing to the ground, as she whispered in admiration to herself “That’s him all’right”


Hope you liked it, leave your comments please




your metaphores are too much. Comparing street lamps to human by giving them carracteristics of humans like sadness is jargen written by someone of inexperience. Someone who hasn't experienced enough feelings to truly portray one through writting. Lamps being held like prisoners? What does that feel like? I understand where your coming from though, your trying to paint a picture, but you lack the actual and true image of anything.