Posts Tagged ‘Horror’

Encircled by black candles,
I began the incantation tonight,
With my bladed consort,
Feeling her soft kiss,
From wrist to chelidon,
Leaving pools of mana on the altar,

Amidst chants of grunting pain,
Casting the magic,
Releasing the wine,
Just ripe for the showpieces of the damned,
Finger painting on the walls,
Pinot in the chalices,

There is such art in this sorcery,
Haemoglobin,
Cruor,
Lifeblood,
And the dramatic flair of it all,
The ultimate form of magic.

Our sloop suddenly halted in open water,
Like a reef had struck us,
Invoked by some pagan sea god,
The ship listed sharply in newly churning waters,
Bubbling,
Creaking,
Slithering,

Then it set upon us,
Oddity given flesh,
Seizing our vessel like a child’s toy,
A thousand grey boughs from below,
Bristling with vicious suckers,
Shattering mast and severing rope,
Plucking men like cockles,

This leviathan,
No spear or axe could deter it,
Lashing every inch of the deck,
I was thrust overboard in the chaos,
As I sank,
I saw my friends die,
Eaten doubly by fathom and beak both.

Do not call me a man,
Nor a human,
I am body horror,
What appears a man,
Is an abomination,
A terror of mutilation and mutation each,
A patchwork of flesh,
Necrotic and otherwise,

Seeing from countless eyes,
Not all mammalian,
Speaking from many maws,
Drool flowing from each,
Each of the humours on display,
All forms of improvement,
Sores and incisions,
Tentacles and fur,

This isn’t imagination,
Not delusion,
Just a real body,
In abhorrent excess,
Sutures and all.

Those eyes,
Oh those eyes,
Just like Medusa,
Piercing and deadly,
Tawny like spite,
Her gaze is flanked by numerous serpents,
Like a scaled bouquet for a crown,
She chokes you with her speech,
An invisible anaconda,
A his slithering on every word,
The venom almost visible on the air,

She hates what you did to her,
How you punished her,
Cursed her,
But she can punish you now,
Goddess or not,
You try to flee,
Yet the body rebels,
She has you,
In her coils and vision,
You’ll be stone soon,
Masonry for your own ruined temple.

At the end of the world,
Under magmatic skies,
A place I see in my fevered dreams,
Only one thing still walks the wastes,
Man had become a monster,
A titan of flesh and bone,
An amalgamated frankenstein of the populace,
Eight billion bodies bound together,
Making up muscles of great scale,
Still trying to reach out,
Still crying out in discord,
Each step was met with cracks and tearing,
Bone organ and ligament,
Agony fuelling each movement,

Humanity had finally become what it deserved,
A collosal corpse,
Its transit was a cacophony of pain,
Even under the distant rumbles of its tread,
I could still hear the wailing.

When I was young,
I once had a nightmare,
A dream of the most surreal kind,
Was it some ghost?
A bogeyman?
Nothing so mundane I’m afraid,
It was an orb floating in my room,
A ball of yarn unravelling,
With the consistency of intestines,
Of offal,
Crimson weeping from it,

An alien gurgling emanated from it,
Mocking my own heartbeat,
I was struck dumb by it,
Unable to move,
Bloodshot eyes fixated,
Until the yarn was almost unwound,
But then I awoke,
So what did it mean?
I’ve never sussed it out,
I’m not closer to understanding,
I fear I never will.

Greetings mortal,
You’re looking rather sour,
Is the end rearing its head?
Then you’ve come to the right place,
Our establishment specialises in grim expirations,
It’s a booming trade I assure you,
What brand of death do you desire?
We have all the classics,

Would you prefer a bombastic end?
A crash or fall or rope,
Or maybe you favour the slow exit?
Pills or poison or water,
Do you fade amongst doting family,
Taken by pestilence and malady?
Perhaps you wish for a warriors death,
Iron to the gut in another’s defence?

So many possibilities,
Will you rest in a mausoleum?
Or be bleached bones upon the dune?
Our supplier rides a pale horse,
And is never late to deliver,
I wouldn’t ask for a refund though,
All of a our stock must go,
And it shall.

There’s a face upon the moon,
A phantasm,
Beelzebub or something far worse,
Oh aye,
On this night of all nights,
The twilight of the harvest,
It dances across craters as sorcerous shadow,
Gazing down in mad glee,
With its eerie light upon the graves,
All lunar rays and violet mist,

Under its scrutiny things begin to rise,
Spirits and corpses pulse from the dirt,
Crones look up from their cauldrons,
Every terror imaginable walks the city lights,
All of the outcasts and weirdos,
Swamp beasts and bloodsuckers,
It’s like a summoning,
A dark entity beckoning to its kith,
For this festival of the occult,
Under the moon we are family,

The monster in the moon smirks,
This will be a hell of a Halloween.

This Halloween,
Something prowls the neighbourhood,
A titan in boiler suit and Shatner mask,
A haunting of a different kind,
This isn’t a spectral creature though,
But a man of flesh,
As much as a being of evil can be,
But you can’t kill the bogeyman,
Not by fire or bullet or blade,
When he comes home,
He’ll just want to say hello,
In his own way,
A keenly bladed greeting.

Roll up,
Come in please,
Welcome to our museum of the occult,
We hold all manner of oddities,
Relics of the other side,
Like this here unsettling portrait,
Dark scrolls and dimensional mirrors,
And like this Raggedy Ann,

I didn’t hear any giggling,
No wooden footsteps either,
Are you sure?

Don’t mind the doll,
I don’t think she likes you,
But she’s well-behaved most of the time,
Well there was this one incident,
She roams about at times,
This is no typical plaything,
Possessed?
Oh maybe,

You feel breathing next to your ear?
Where’s the doll?
Her glass cabinet lies empty.