Poetry and Prose
Grey skies above, As tears fall like sand, Rending flesh from bone, I am not alone,
My gaze upon the sky, I let loose a cry, GOD-WHY,
Through desperation, A midst my pain, Only the echo, Was heard in vain,
As I split my wrist in twain, I so choose to end my pain, Knowing that it was the rain, Always, and forever the cause of my bane.
Originally written: December 16th, 2014 By: AvnSgt
The air was acrid, with smoke lingering in the twilight. Bodies were scattered athwart along a winding, jagged road. “Something or someone had undoubtedly been here not long ago,” Rags thought.
Rags, a skilled hunter, who had slain beasts, in the name of the White Church, had seen wounds like the ones on the path before him. But, he failed to recall them from memory, even with the details fresh in his mind. The victims' blood had not even begun to coagulate and was flowing like a visceral river.
Rags began to question, “Who or what could have caused such mortal wounds. This vexes me.” Good and innocent people died here, and for what... So some fanatic, can perform experiments, in the guise of blood ministration. This madness must come to an end. There has to be something I am missing. Rags screams, “Why can't I remem...”
Except, the final word, never escaped his lips, as he felt a sharp twinge of pain. Right as the assailant's weapon, burst through his chest. Eviscerating his entrails, causing him to fall on to his knees.
For a brief moment, before Rags falls face forward on to the cobble stone. The last thing he ever hears, “...another cancer wrenched from the host's bosom. Excellent kill, brother!”
Originally written: June 17th, 2018 By: AvnSgt
Raven haired, and ebony eyed. Cowled figure, most would deny. Eerie beauty, and state of grace. All must face, her icy embrace.
No money or coin, will help the broken. Mortality, the only token Payment made, but never spoken
Cradled in her frigid breast. Another one, laid to rest Her duty, never blessed Death! Her behest!
Originally written: June 16th, 2018 Edited On: February 27th, 2020 By: AvnSgt
What is regret? If not, a path not taken! On a map, that is unexplored. Veiled risk abandoned, for an unknown reward!
A choice left deserted. From lost a soul left perverted! With a compass needle guiding life. Spiraling uncontrollably, likened to a knife! Unconvinced by fact, but betrayed by fiction!
The map untouched, and the path unchanged. For, “what is regret?” If not a road not travelled, on an atlas of our uncharted life.
Originally written: June 15th, 2018 By: AvnSgt