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2-Fingers - palm-facing peace, knuckle-facing war: the swaying golden wheat field and the circling black crow. I've seen him, the hOllOw man, strawdog of the weather-beaten vale; I saw him this very night creeping in the gloom, swishing his hairy tale.
The first one was like an angel, dreaming of Heaven's pearly gates - so you sent her there with succulent ease - Christ, she was only eight. Eyes wide open, eyes wide shut: "Where's daddy whitebeard now?"
The second was like an astronaut, walking on the Moon - so you dragged him back down to Earth and put him in the ground. You smothered him, snuffed him out, choked him like his sister: "Allow me to blindfold your faceless life" you purred, before kissing his final whisper.
Like a spider, crawling over their faces: your black-gloved hand with fingers spread, stealing their precious breath. - You are Eldritch, child-killer, bagger of immaculate souls; there's a lighthouse on the horizon, but the lighthouseman's dead: O what tangled tapestries hang inside your morbid head?
The last one was a runner, squeaking like a bat, she tumbled down the stairs - bump, bump, bump - and that, as they say, was that.
hOllOw man, horror man, scarecrow of malignant thrall; with dark-circled eyes and long fingers fetid with carrion grease - that face-gripping hand knows only too well the palmistry of deathly peace.
Your gangling stride returned you to the snow-kist grave, your dismal den, wherein flames curled like Satanic snakes. You tossed your spider glove into the crackling fire and observed its shrivelling decay. - "HOME ALONE CHILDREN SLAIN" I thought, that will be the headline tomorrow in black & white.... and as it turned out, by noontide, I was right.
The first one was like an angel, dreaming of Heaven's pearly gates - so you sent her there with succulent ease - Christ, she was only eight. Eyes wide open, eyes wide shut: "Where's daddy whitebeard now?"
The second was like an astronaut, walking on the Moon - so you dragged him back down to Earth and put him in the ground. You smothered him, snuffed him out, choked him like his sister: "Allow me to blindfold your faceless life" you purred, before kissing his final whisper.
Like a spider, crawling over their faces: your black-gloved hand with fingers spread, stealing their precious breath. - You are Eldritch, child-killer, bagger of immaculate souls; there's a lighthouse on the horizon, but the lighthouseman's dead: O what tangled tapestries hang inside your morbid head?
The last one was a runner, squeaking like a bat, she tumbled down the stairs - bump, bump, bump - and that, as they say, was that.
hOllOw man, horror man, scarecrow of malignant thrall; with dark-circled eyes and long fingers fetid with carrion grease - that face-gripping hand knows only too well the palmistry of deathly peace.
Your gangling stride returned you to the snow-kist grave, your dismal den, wherein flames curled like Satanic snakes. You tossed your spider glove into the crackling fire and observed its shrivelling decay. - "HOME ALONE CHILDREN SLAIN" I thought, that will be the headline tomorrow in black & white.... and as it turned out, by noontide, I was right.
Opening 8 words - never heard or thought of it like that before, insightful.
The rest - oh glorious, glorious. The wealth of imagination to the depths of depravation.
The rest - oh glorious, glorious. The wealth of imagination to the depths of depravation.
Hmmmmmm.
That was as rich as Peter Stringfellow's sexual history.
Haggish.
Phantastic.
That was as rich as Peter Stringfellow's sexual history.
Haggish.
Phantastic.
Loved it. Brilliant descriptions of everything, and as Rickoss said, it was poem like yet written in story form which gave it a nice touch.
Scary person is you
Excellent, as per usual. Almost Poem-like, yet written as a story. I like very much, keep 'em coming :-)
2-Fingers - palm-facing peace, knuckle-facing war: the swaying golden wheat field and the circling black crow. I've seen him, the hOllOw man, strawdog of the weather-beaten vale; I saw him this very night creeping in the gloom, swishing his hairy tale.
The first one was like an angel, dreaming of Heaven's pearly gates - so you sent her there with succulent ease - Christ, she was only eight. Eyes wide open, eyes wide shut: "Where's daddy whitebeard now?"
The second was like an astronaut, walking on the Moon - so you dragged him back down to Earth and put him in the ground. You smothered him, snuffed him out, choked him like his sister: "Allow me to blindfold your faceless life" you purred, before kissing his final whisper.
Like a spider, crawling over their faces: your black-gloved hand with fingers spread, stealing their precious breath. - You are Eldritch, child-killer, bagger of immaculate souls; there's a lighthouse on the horizon, but the lighthouseman's dead: O what tangled tapestries hang inside your morbid head?
The last one was a runner, squeaking like a bat, she tumbled down the stairs - bump, bump, bump - and that, as they say, was that.
hOllOw man, horror man, scarecrow of malignant thrall; with dark-circled eyes and long fingers fetid with carrion grease - that face-gripping hand knows only too well the palmistry of deathly peace.
Your gangling stride returned you to the snow-kist grave, your dismal den, wherein flames curled like Satanic snakes. You tossed your spider glove into the crackling fire and observed its shrivelling decay. - "HOME ALONE CHILDREN SLAIN" I thought, that will be the headline tomorrow in black & white.... and as it turned out, by noontide, I was right.
The first one was like an angel, dreaming of Heaven's pearly gates - so you sent her there with succulent ease - Christ, she was only eight. Eyes wide open, eyes wide shut: "Where's daddy whitebeard now?"
The second was like an astronaut, walking on the Moon - so you dragged him back down to Earth and put him in the ground. You smothered him, snuffed him out, choked him like his sister: "Allow me to blindfold your faceless life" you purred, before kissing his final whisper.
Like a spider, crawling over their faces: your black-gloved hand with fingers spread, stealing their precious breath. - You are Eldritch, child-killer, bagger of immaculate souls; there's a lighthouse on the horizon, but the lighthouseman's dead: O what tangled tapestries hang inside your morbid head?
The last one was a runner, squeaking like a bat, she tumbled down the stairs - bump, bump, bump - and that, as they say, was that.
hOllOw man, horror man, scarecrow of malignant thrall; with dark-circled eyes and long fingers fetid with carrion grease - that face-gripping hand knows only too well the palmistry of deathly peace.
Your gangling stride returned you to the snow-kist grave, your dismal den, wherein flames curled like Satanic snakes. You tossed your spider glove into the crackling fire and observed its shrivelling decay. - "HOME ALONE CHILDREN SLAIN" I thought, that will be the headline tomorrow in black & white.... and as it turned out, by noontide, I was right.