Where All Souls Tread

All is light

A white so clear

It hides shades of blue

And the caravan walks on

Limbo interstate

Going nowhere

No where here

Wasteland cold

Whipping up a vicious

Minatory haze

Slashing ribbons of us

Us sinners clutching desperate

To arms and legs

Skin on skin

Anything to fend off this chill

But still we walk

Feet plodding

Clay mire slow

For that distant shade

Saccharin darkness

Calling for us

Our desperate rest

But no rest for the wicked

We walk on

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Finale

“Of course, hun

Everything will be fine…”

The last lie I told her

A loyal deception

Perpetrated from a place

Of warmth and love

Affection coating its edges

Hiding what lay beneath

The promise of loss

What loss inflicted

Infliction’s relief

No more waiting

The final end

I squeezed her hand

She sighed

And relaxed

The tears slipped down

Dropping dark pools on her dress

I was alone in a stark white nothing

Smelling of antiseptic and lemon

The silence she left behind

Bigger than the room

Engulfed those seconds

The moments before I let go

Of her already cooling hand

Dear Little Danny

He was always the favorite

Dear little Danny

How mother doted on him

While I was left

Alone in the library

With my studies

And my thoughts

And my plans

All these years later though

I stand upon the precipice

Of a tall stone shaft

At the bottom of which lies

The broken body of

Dear little Danny

I can hear the tell-tale skitter

From the numerous holes in the walls

Before the multitudinous hordes

Spill forth

I watch the gruesome chaos unfurl

As he is devoured whole

Little more

Than a weak moan escaping his lips

Before he is gone

Remembered by none

Save me

And the rats which he fed

The House of Captive Hope

The children all knew its name

The orphanage which clung

Gargoyle-like

To the rocky pier

Not the name it proudly touted

Ms. Greyrock’s Home for Unfortunates

No the name it truly carried

Which spoke of pain

And loss

And those many souls

Which passed through its walls

Like meat within a thresher

The House of Captive Hope

Goodbyes

Our lips pressed

A kiss like a goodbye

And as she leant back

I saw how something died on those lips

An “I love you” never to be spoken

And in her eyes

I saw what she had already made of me

Another mistake

In a long line of men

Whom had wronged

And moved on

So I fixed my hat

And with a nod

I was gone

Writer’s Worry

We scheme and connive

Always looking for

Always planning for

The next beat

The way it all unfolds

Beneath pen

Key

Thumb

Somehow we have deemed

That we

And only we

Can tell this story

Can shape the land

Call it what you want

Hubris, I think is most fitting

Yet we are still here

Still so sure that this is right

That we still will write

What the world needs

What will effect the most

And what will be remembered

Directional Ambiguity

“This way!”

I cried to my companions

Backpack jostling

As I crested the top

A sea of pines

Spilled out below me

Stretching on beyond horizon

Completely unbroken

I stopped

And hesitated a moment

Pulling out my map

Squinting at the formations

Then flipping it over

Considering all angles

Soon my comrades caught up

“Well?”

One wheezed as he collapsed

Pulling out waterskin

And quenching thirst

“I may

Or may not

Have absolutely no idea

Where we are…”