She watches over all

Moving at light speed

An arrow zings by

Her crown glows

With a blinding light

That reaches the projectile

The tool burns to a crisp

Charred into ashes

Her mind scans the area

For the archer’s location

She spots the shooter-

Perched in a pearly tree

The archer falls backwards

Through many shiny fruits

And violet leaves—

Something flies over him~

Swoops in to catch the archer

Right before he lands on the ground

She tries catch follow them,

But they vanish in a blink of an eye.

#Intheblinkofan

“Together~”

It whispered. She failed to concentrate on her work. Where was that voice coming from?

Her heart began to race. She checked the closet~ nothing. Under her bed— zilch.

She stared at the radio that looked as if it had been around for ages. The one her gruncle had handed to her when she turned nine.

The radio dials started to move. She stood frozen watching the peculiar action.

A voice beamed through the speaker:

“Together, you & I shall always will be.”

The lass was startled. She ran to check the radio. It had no batteries!

Once again, the radio tuned itself. What kind of prank was this?

The voice came out more clear this time:

“Louise, we will never let you go. You are stuck with us.”

She gulped. Then Louise asked in a trembling tone, “Who are you? How long....will you...keep bothering..me??”

“We are a part of you. How long have we been together? Our dear Louise, we have known you for a very long time. Ever since you were born.

“We don’t plan on leaving any time soon. In fact from the moment we met you, we decided to be with you forever.”

#DAEMON.

The crowds gathered with torches and pitchforks. Altogether they cried: “Burn the witch!” They threw deformed rotten tomatoes at the young girl.

She bowed her head and tried her best not to look at the folks all out to watch her be burned. A giant roach scurried past her and went rushing under a nearby wooden plank.

The folks all cheered the minute that the witch was tied to the stake. They watched with delight as a burning torch was moved close to the girl’s feet. The fire danced by her body. It swirled and hissed as it increased around her.

It didn’t stop there. The flames roared with rage and flew like fireworks. Some of the flames landed on top of one of the thatched cottage.

The fire on that roof burned and found its way on another cottage. Folks panicked and feared for their homes.

They looked at the stake where the girl had been placed, she was gone. All they heard was the sound of maniacal laughter.

The fire raged on and on. The villagers were distraught. They hoped that their homes would not be too hard to fix, and that the witch was gone.

#FEU.

Leaves rustle in the breeze

As the kid makes a loud sneeze

Something lurks in the shadow

Waiting, at a section really low

With one touch

The child feels a scratch

Places a hand over cheek

Spots the fiery dark being~ “Eek!”

The being lunges forward

Little one feeling quite tired

Has no way to stop the monster

It moves much closer—

Leaving a cloud of smoke

Completing it’s work like no joke

Both vanish in a snap-

While some water drips from the tap

#IMMERGE.

I was enthralled by the mystery play because there were so many characters who could have killed the beautiful damsel who was found tossed like trash in a dark alley.

It could have been the man who found the bloody body and had blood all over his clothes. He claimed that he had tried to resuscitate her to no avail.

Maybe, it was the woman’s fiancé who had become enamored of another woman but couldn’t bear to tell her. If he knocked her off now, he could scarf money from their mutual bank account. Possibly, it was her fiancé’s new love interest, hoping to hasten the absence of her rival.

Was it her nasty friend who owed her money and didn’t want to pay her back?

Perhaps it was a threatening rapist who didn’t have time to rape her before the body was discovered. The realm of possibilities intrigued my imagination.

Suddenly, the characters in the play stopped in the middle of the action. All, except the dead woman, pointed accusingly to the audience in which I was seated. “It was one of you!” they screamed. They proceeded to stomp off the stage to the seats out of the spotlight. I was flabbergasted when they stopped in front of my seat and yelled, “Arrest him! He’s the one who did it!”

Finally, it dawned on me! This wasn’t a play and these weren’t actors. I killed the woman in cold blood when urges overcame me. I had built a fantasy world to cover my aberrations because I couldn’t face the truth. I turned to run but it was too late. I keep rehashing this over and over in my padded cell. Did I really do this or was it just an Illusion?

Free will

Lip-service ultimatum

Nether cosmos of optimal

Best practices

More statues pointing North

Arrive unrequested

And we all bow

And blog

And break

Until thesis, finger-food

You can’t send back what never was sent

Nor reverse engineer,

The lies of the rent

Who caulome

Kenosis

And claim it “time well spent”

We didn’t want to know

But we didn’t know that

Bumbling to help

The cat in the hat

Has it all down

But fear of the brand

Last breath on the sand

And youre drowned

Packed in cement…

all but your head

honey and fire ants present

abound

https://BloodForInk.Com

If I were an organ

What might I be?

I could be a bladder

To help you hold your pee

Or I could be a kidney

A filter of sorts

You would have two of me

Based on most reports

There are so many organs

Just where should we start?

I would never have time to rest

If I were your beating heart

Be still my heart

For it might make me quiver

If I had the chance

To be your liver

I have a secretion that I could tell

Is a game endocrinologists play

What comes from which gland?

But who am I to say?

Some find it confusing

In many a foreign land

Where they don’t know the difference

Between an organ or gland

But speaking of organs

I must really come clean

That I had high hopes

To be born a spleen

In time all things must pass

Through this organ it’s very true

Because if I were your intestines

I would help you to poo

Speaking of poo

When filled with gas you might Howl

This too passes through

If I were your bowel

Or if I gave it some thought

Though you might think me vain

I would give it some serious thought

To be born a brain

Wait now dear reader

I know what I should be

If I were born an eyeball

I could finally see!

BAM 2019

Borrowed from words.

Used without permission.

Covering the tounge like

a blue and white dress she

might be wearing now, and

he is admiring her clouds in

the mirror.