Tag Archives: Escaped

Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Howard Pyle

New; Knew

I Don’t Know If Its New,
But I Do Know It Was New To me;
Nor Had I Ever Heard
Such a Thing Described To me.
For I Don’t Believe
They Are From This World or Any Other.
Demons Ripped From Another Dimension;
Nightmares Rendered Real.
Crazy I Know.
That Is Why I am Writing This,
Because Only On Paper
Can I UnLeash
This Torrent of Conflicting Emotion.
To Try To Make Some Sense of It,
To UnBurden my Mind,
Because Sex & Drink
Just Doesn’t Make It.
the First Time
I Was Drifting Through Some Southern Towns
& I Came Upon It,
In a Glass Case;
a Human Brain
With Filaments
Like Spiders’
Legs
& It Spoke To me,
In my Brain of Its Need to ImPregnate me.
I Escaped & Returned to Kill It
& Its Keeper.
Once Again
When I Was Working
As a Carny In a Run Down Town,
I Dealt Death to Another
In the Visage of An InSane Clown.
Nothing In the News Papers,
No Bounty On my Head;
I Know I Killed Them;
I Know Their Dead.
I Don’t Want to Go Back;
I Don’t Know If I Should.
Scared,
Edgy,
Shot Gun By the Bed;
Crazy,
MayBe;
I Can’t Get Them Out Of my Head.
I Can’t Stay I Have To Go.
Wait;
What Was That,
a Knock On the Door.
#B27321 

https://theprose.com/post/143098/new-knew

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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Arthur Rackham

Arthur Rackham

Luck

Luck
a Lady
All Ways
Easy
On
the Eyes
Luck
a Lady
As I
Slip
Between
Those Thighs
Luck
a Lady
As I
Listen
To Her
Cries
Luck
a Lady
As Every
One
Else Dies
&

That
Is How
I Fared
How I
Escaped
the Electric
Chair
How I
Dared
With Out
Even
a Care
As She
Rode
By my
Side
She
Of the
45 Caliber
Kind
#B27321

https://theprose.com/post/42765/luck

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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Eugène Delacroix

Eugène Delacroix

Leighton’s Projector 

I Have Done It.
I Have Created the Projector,
a Portal to Another Dimension.

X

or What Ever the Inhabitants

of This Hellish World,
the Shadow People Call It.
Long Have I Fought

These Delusions of a Fragmented Mind.
Now,
They Will Find

That my Insanity was No Laughter.
That These Were the Demons

That Escaped the Chest,
Till Only Hope was Left.
These Were the Maladies,
Our Second Selves.
All Our Fears & Self Loathing,
Like Diseased Bags In the Wind.
Purge This Land

Till Only God Man Is Left Standing,
We can Win.

Taken From
the Private
Journals
of #B27321
Last Son
of a
Fallen Line 

https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1340827-monthly-short-fiction-contest—win-a-50-amazon-gift-card-or-paypal-pri?comment=143577591&page=5#comment_143577591

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