I am super excited about one of my stories from The Other Side of Despair being featured on the latest podcast episode of Random Transmissions. This podcast is super cool and you should go and check out all the episodes!
Category Archives: dark fiction
Time and Death
Eyes that grope the haunted cowl
And strokes the strings of a thin lined scowl
Unruly jest made with gleeful mock
And howls the strain of a ticking clock
You slinking wraith that moans and sighs
And whispers laughs through hated cries
The clunking clank of weighted toils
The clotted filth of graveyard soils
Wincing faces of Time and Death
Marked in rasps and ticking breath
Till the final knell rings loud and clear
And the death rattle echoes with every tear
Oh sweet life that has burned so bright
And flickered long with ghostly light
What sad charm we recall to sight
The melancholy affair that conjures night
Soliloquy of the Torturer
How shall I burden thee thou vacant shell?
Whose forlorn spirit can no longer in thee dwell
Abused, contused, such a shredded form
That shirks thy joy beyond the blighted norm
Confused, misused, rebuking clotted clay
Can no longer cower like the dogged prey
O’ how they used to dance upon thy skin
Tools of torture that cajoled blood within
A sanguine medley of raucous outpouring
Thy melodies took to air and then went soaring
That delightful voice so full of passion
That stirred emotions in a poignant fashion
Thy pleading crescendo that wrenched my heart
Hath sang its encore and fled the part
With nary a credit to the conductors skill
Without whose flair to thy struggling will
Would not have brought such fiery drive
To a tedious creature just barely alive
With distressing sorrow I bid adieux
For another apt instrument awaits my cue
Danse Macabre
Shades are shaping
And shapes are shifting
Through faint glowing mist
Ghosts are drifting
Their floating forms
Fills the air
Moaning laments
Of woe and despair
This Danse Macabre
That wends it way
To the Potter’s Field
Where Death holds sway
Forked tongue wizards
Spewing spells
They draw their venom
From necromantic wells
Lurid faced witches
Cavorting nude
Their laughter foul
And their dances lewd
Decaying features
Mottled skins
Rotted flesh
And skeletal grins
Ghastly ghouls
And gory beasts
Great horned monsters
Who’ve come to feast
The graveyard pageant
The writhing throng
Suddenly ceases
At the rumbling gong
The dead have risen
At their master’s calling
But to their knees
They now are falling
Amongst the dankest dark
A tolling fills the gloom
Every creature halts to hark
The approaching Lord of Doom
Clanging clong of iron bell
Precedes his stately tread
Everything that hears the knell
Bows to the King of the Dead