Preparations are Made

“The bastards’ll flay their prisoners

Then make ’em eat the flesh!”

Michael chittered

Hands working nervously

Over an arrow he was fitting

“Have you seen this

Or even had someone else

Who saw it directly?”

I smirked

Waxing my bow’s string

The bee’s wax coating nicely

“I killed three all on my own

Without any kind of fight.”

Yes the moment I started this

The moment I damned us

To the ministrations

Of those psychotic fanatics

“Well

Not as such I suppose…”

Michael lowered his head

“But you hear the screams

From atop the mountains

Whatever they’re doing

It’s hellish for sure.”

He nodded at this

To punctuate his point

I shrug and set my bow down

“You’ve a point I guess”

Those screams

Gods old and new

Whatever they’re doing

I hoped to never find out

I picked a bit of dried venison

From my tooth

Sighed and stood up

“Let me know

When the arrows are ready

I’m itching for some Kilkenny blood”

I walked from the cabin

Leaving Michael to his delicate

And precise work

Outside I saw a few riders

Astride their steeds

Noble visage of order

Appointed by our gods

Palos and Mineer

Twins of fire and ice

Their hide capes died in reds

Their bows, white and stark

I know as long as our gods watch

We shall not fail

If you enjoyed this make sure to read Amberley’s poem for today! read it here! Everyone is converging in her stories, so if you need to catch up make sure to read everything in our collections After the End~

Touch

My doctors claim

“A form of Schizophrenia”

But I’m not so sure

Nothing makes it stop

Always I feel it

Always I’m touching it

Everything feels like flesh

From wood to stone to cotton

To fur to steel to glass

That subtle give

The warmth and breath

And water

Oh gods

I cannot begin to properly describe

The slick

Greasy

Coppery

Fibrous

No

No I can’t

And Jesus Christ

RAIN

I shudder to think

For not much longer

Can I bear this hell

The world breathes

And knows of me

And soon I’ll die

And return to its side

For Victor

We were acquaintances at best

A few years ago maybe

We were close enough for friends

So why does your passing

Hurt so much

We hadn’t spoken for awhile

But I’d watched your progress

You became the man

You wanted to be

You fought off cancer

You won

But your lungs

…

I hope you can breath easy now

You were a beautiful man

And we all miss you dearly

Hypothetical

If there was a man

Hypothetically

Who was everything you ever wanted

What you alway desired

And he hypothetically lived

In a big old house

Alone and want for love

Could you see yourself loving him

Hypothetically

Only in concept

A purely thought formed man

Chiseled features

And flowing hair

The idea of perfection

Hypothetically waiting for you

In his imagined house

Dressed sharp

Just the way you like

Yes

You thought you could love him

You thought you were there

Holding him and kissing him

And living and loving

So perfectly lovely

But you awake each day

Alone

This man forgotten

For only a moment

And when you return

To this theoretical place

He feels like you were allways gone

You feel so guilty

Hypothetically

You thought you loved him

You thought it was perfect

Until the day

You found him dead

Edges fuzzy and blurry and red

Already forgetting his breath

His perfect laugh

You realized

You didn’t love this man

You only thought of him

Hypothetically

And so you went on

Your life none the worse

And from time to time

You think to yourself

The perfect man didn’t exist

Except the one

Who lived

Hypothetically

Abyssal Core

Our superiors informed us

A new initiative

A deal had been made

With those elder things

And in return for our service

They would graft onto us

Onto our technology

The smallest bits of them

Almost unimaginable in power

Our flesh twists in grotesque mockery

Of our former human bodies

Tanks and planes and guns

Breath with new life

Aware of our touch

We are now known

By a new name

The Abyssal Corp

I Died

At the base of that tree

Blood pooling neath my feet

Face splattered with his life

I died

 

When I cradled his body

All shattered and torn

Barely a cohesive thing

I died

 

As I cried out to the gods

To every last one of them

And heard silence in return

I died

 

When I returned to my village

Water left behind, forgotten

Its absence, not my love’s, noticed

I died

 

As the elders counseled me

Rose’s arm upon my shoulder

“These things happen for a reason”

I died

 

As I pled for them begged

To get his body returned it to me

“No burial for water bearers”

I died

 

While I lie here in bed

Knowing tomorrow will be the same

Will continue on without his light

I die

 

As I think how every day

Every moment will be without him

His absence an indelible mark

I die

 

As I close my eyes

Tears still streaming

Impossible to halt

I die

 

I wish…

If you liked this poem and want more from this world, make sure to read Amberley’s poem for today right here! Pay close attention to the words. Something hides there. Also check out our collections After the End and the hashtag AfterTheEnd

Trying to Find a Clever Way to Say Nothing About Something, and Failing Before I Even Begin; or “God Poetry is Hard”

Half the battle is choosing the words

Pruning back the unnecessary, superfluous, and extraneous lexicon

Not mixing metaphors

Like water and oil

Or steak and tea

Keeping consistency

And

Flow

Between lines

Perfectly balanced scales

Not a letter out of plac e

And always making sure to double check speling

But no wait

What to even write about

Over?

The complex

Distilled to but a few lines

The horrific

Contained in my meager words

The profound

Found impotent in my form

Guess

The best

I’ve found

Worry only

About yourself

And let the words fall

As they may

Get Home

I waited in the car

AM murmuring quietly

Outside the grocery

My friend was taking awhile

I felt like I’d never get home

The digital display buzzed

Its electronics going bad

And slipped over to the next minute

My eyes losing focus

Fuzzy edges blurring

Something moves

On top the grocer

Sight snapped quick

A dome of ivory white

Amber in the streetlight

Fingers massive and boney

Skin stretched thin over joints

Bloody eyes lidless and angry

Glared down at my car

I felt like I’d never get home