Dormant

A dormant beast is neither lazy or tired.
It is just dormant.

Heart beating and brimming with fire. “Mark my words,” a sage with eyes fixed on a cracked crystal announced, “it will haunt and torment.”

Dreaming, waiting, yearning and craving the flesh it lies in a cave called Furthest;
but it will soon awake from its deathly slumber with the passing of the blue ice harvest.

The fiery sun it awaits to have fun with your brittle bones and balmy blood.

Fear it most when it is dormant … Dreaming, waiting, yearning and craving … Your mortal flesh!

A macabre morning I wish thee …

The Diarrhia of a Midnight Crawler: The Entity

Everything was on the wrong side especially sound. His fingers pressed tighter on the steering wheel. He wanted to affirm the fact that he was in control and not the entity.

“I am in control therefore I exist. Fuck you Descarte!”

A car shot past him. “The sound came from the right yet the car was to the left of my vehicle. Shit!”

Led Zeppelin’s That’s the Way was playing on the radio by an obscure presenter. With a single glance that scanned the vehicle’s three mirrors he eyed the fading road behind, and was able to see the entity approaching like a beast salivating after a prey.

His heart sunk and so did his foot, pushing the pedal to the metal.

He is in for quite a ride, and if all goes as planned, so is that vicious entity that is trying to engulf his being.

Rise

Light somehow found its way through the cracked edges. His eye lids shrank for a few seconds. A rock blocked a guarded entrance.

“So long ago,” he thought removing the covers that enshrined him. He softly rose out of bed. Night runaway but the day decided to stay. The sounds of happy children greeted him. The city was alive with familiar sounds. Thoughts of ancient Jerusalem flashed through his already crowded mind. Good morning and Happy Easter he said to his lovely wife and lovelier children.

Good morning and Happy Easter he says to you.

A few centuries ago, they say, a tomb was pushed open and a man from morbid death rose giving life hope. Today we all rose from our nightly death and into the arms of our loved ones ourselves found.

If that’s not a blessing I don’t know what is!

Apologies for not just saying a simple Happy Easter :-})

Her Face Had a Hole in It

No!

She wasn’t beaten up by a coward of a brother,

Still her face had a hole in it.

She wasn’t an abused wife and mother,

Still her face had a hole in it.

Disheveled hair covered her empty stare,

Lifelike yet lifeless she stood there.

No!

She wasn’t a daughter slaughtered by a bastard of a father,

Her face had a large hole in it.

A modern day Pygmalion would have wept her disfigured visage,

But a warm embrace would have been quite the scandalous vestige,

A man loving a mannequin!

There she stands,

Behind a crystal sheet, naked, forlorn and made out of plastic;

With a hole in her face.

Unattended and abused like many a real women in this world …

P.S: I felt the photograph that I Photoshoped from the original looked silly so I decided to use the original.

Photograph by Mike V. Derderian – Taken with a Sonny Ericsson W880i