Tag Archives: Laughing

Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Howard Pyle

Mickey’s Christmas Hit Men

Empire

Walt
is your
Daddy
&
Mickey
has Come
to Collect
#‎B27321

Mickey Is
What He’s All Ways Been
a Hit Man
For the Disney Mob.
Whether He’s Playing
the Pencil Pushing Hapless Scribe;
Meek & Needy,
So Poor He Doesn’t Have a Dime
or As an Enforcer
For the King of Crime.
He Was Working
For Ebenezer
the Richest Duck
In All the Land
& to Get the Money
for Walt
He Had a Devious Plan.
Drive That Scrooge
to InSanity
With Pity & ReMorse
at All the Dirty Deeds
That Have Bloodied
His Red Hands,
Because you See
Wealth
Was the Source
of All His Wicked Pride.
Forcing All the Children
to Work For Him
Not Disney
In His Hellish Mine,
Starving
as They Worked
Cannibalism
Would Break Out
From Time to Time.
Laughing At the Shillings
He Would Save
When the Killings
Began Again
Maybe Even
This Very Day.
Did He Reminisce
About the Many Rivals
He Had Killed
aLong His Long Black Past.
Namely,
That Goofy Jacob Marley
He Garroted
With His Own Two Fists
or That Whore
He Loved
Named Daisy
Who Gave Him
a Horrible Fit
of the Drip
& How About
When He Sold His Soul
to the Agent of Satan;
the Mighty Mr. Toad.
Who He Killed Out of Envy
to Gain the Formers Role
to Live As Long As Ever
If He Never Lost Control.
He Had Minnie
& Timmy
& Even the Giant Willie
to Help Him Carry Out
His Evil Scheme
to Put That Duck Through the Ringer
& Squeeze Out Every Thing.
For Only Two Choices
Does He Have
Visit Him
With Three Dark Sins
or Put Him In a Can.
#B27321

https://theprose.com/post/149484/mickey-s-christmas-hit-men

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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Howard Pyle

Rejection; Depression

Rejection
a Word
I Know
All too Well,
a Word
That Has Burned a Hole;
Marked my Soul.
Driven me To be a Lone.
Never to Know Home,
to Own Nothing,
But Scars I Can Not Hide;
That Multiply
With Each Passing Day.
They Weigh One After Another;
Suffer.
That Is the Bread I Break,
the Ache
of Never a Praise
or a Raise
to Lift me a Moment
From my Torment.
my Eyes Search
For Why
This Has to Be my Fate
& May Be
I Cry
Just a Little
When I Remember
It Is Too Late,
To Begin a New;
to Bloom.
So I Huddle In my Covers
& Dream Dreams of Death.
For I Have Not the Courage Yet,
to Die;
Sublime
& In my Mind
I Find
Depression At Its Best,
a Laughing Joke,
Another Poke;
That I am Neither a Live or Dead
Just Shambling Through
One More Room
In This Tomb
I Call Life
& I Wonder To my Self
Could This Be a Test;
Then I Smile;
Liar.
Don’t Bother Trying
It Will End
Just Like the Rest.
So Don’t Sit & Fret.
It Can’t Be Met,
Perhaps It’s Time
to Rile Up
the Demons In your Breast;
To Summon Up
All the Angst & Hate
& Serve Them Up a Bitter Plate
Rife With Gun & Knife.
So They May Share
the Loss That Is my Life.
These Are the Things
That Swirl Through my Brain,
That Drive me InSane;
Red,
Raw,
Murder.
Shall I Take your Hand
ForSake This Land
or Am I too Weak,
Another Loss I Think.
Another Rejection
to Add to my List of Depression,
a Debilitating Disease
That Will Have you On your Knees.
Not Good For a Thing
That Is How It Has me
With Out
Hope
#B27321 

https://theprose.com/post/146018/rejection-depression

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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Howard Pyle

Howard Pyle

Rocks

This Is
Not
my Eulogy
Fool
This Dirge
Is For
you
a Song
I Sing
As
the Worms
Eat
Their Food
Laughing
At
the Thought
This Was
Supposed
To Be
my Box
Nothing
but Rocks
Soon
It Will
Be you
#B27321

https://theprose.com/post/47046/rocks

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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Weird Tales Magazine‘s

status

Please tell us

a weird tale

in 7 words.

Thank you.

Gustave Dore

Gustave Dore

In

Hills

Bloated

Bodies

Fill

Crows

Laughing

#B27321

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