Tag Archives: Puppets

Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Antoine Wiertz

Antoine Wiertz

//—-

Discarded
Dreams
of Immortality
&
Meat
Puppets
that Scream
of Blood
that Flows
like Sand
Reanimated
Man
the Damned
#‎B27321‬


https://inkandironheroicfantasy.wordpress.com/2014/09/12/inkiron-heroic-fantasy-47/


These Are my Thoughts
As I Dine On
Canned Beer
& Beans
& Meat
Better Left
Unexplained.
They Say It Came From Fukushima,
Radioactive Waste
Flooding the Seas.
I Just Know
It’s Real,
Like West’s
Sinful Serum
the Dead
Won’t Stay Down.
Killing Friends,
Lovers,
& Kids
In a Nightmare
That Won’t End;
a Game Played
In Blood,
Bullets,
& Pain.
Head For the Hills,
Fresh Water,
the Mountains,
the Oceans;
Poison,
the Cities
Choked
With a Rictus
Grin.
This I Say
To you,
When the Dead
Walk
the Living
are Damned.
#B27321

https://theprose.com/post/116642/n-a

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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Howard Pyle

Howard Pyle

What Had
Happened To me 

I Had Never Been to a Séance Before.
Strange Things

Were Going On In This House.
I Had to Admit

If Any Place Had a Right to Be Haunted
It Was This One.
They Said the Foundations Were Pre Roman,
Old as the Stones,
the Story Goes.
Dreams of the Screams,
Those That Died Here by Flame, Plague, & Torture;
Haunt my Sleep.
The Dark Man,
All Ways In the Back;
All Ways.
Like Puppets In a Play
& He Holding the Strings.
They Started to Weave
These Dreams

Into my Waking World.
I Had to Get Some Sleep,
Some Release.
So I Took It Up With the Proprietor,
the Count;
a Family Friend.
His Haunted Hollow Eyes
Saying Much More to me
Than we Shall See
What This Meet Brings.
It Was I,
the Count & Two Gentlemen.
One a Learned Doctor of Court,
No Stranger to the Bizarre,
The Other a Professor of History
& the Occult Sciences;
He Would Be Leading Us
Through This Strange Ceremony.
No Sooner Had we Began our Introductions
Over Brandy & Cigars,
Then a Manifestation Became Evident.
A Globe of Brilliant Light
to Turn the Night to Day
& Say your Payment Is Due,
Entered the Room.
The Count Pointed to me
& Said you May Have Him.
For 13 Months
I Know Not What I Do,
Till They Pulled me From the River;
Ran Through.
6 Months In a Hospital Half the World a Way,
Tomorrow Is the Day;
the Count Explains. 

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=141953921&page=5#comment_141953921

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