lauantai, 3. lokakuu 2015

Under Her Yellow Eyes


It woke me with carnage

Kinsmen torn, cascading like a bloody morning mist.

Door, flee!

A mad dash through the trees

Panting, flailing, stumbling, falling

Knee cracks; breaking.

The creature is right behind me as I turn.

Wailing, gnashing, gibbering, hunched beside me.

Its pallor is apparent; almost shining. The moons are too yellow.

Glistening, extending its many arms with too many joints.

Its breath smells of lilacs as it caresses me.

Its talons smell of crusted viscera.

This moment stretches for hours as it rends me into small portions.

“The report will never be delivered…” is my last thought.


I challenge with "Daughters of Celerity's Fountain."


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