Currently Silence By Blindside Midnight see related

The Good Day...

Currently Listening Forsaken Via Dolorosa see related

Empty Heaven...

Currently Listening Holographic Universe By Scar Symmetry Holographic Universe see related

No, not Seinfeld...

    

 

Currently Listening Watershed By Opeth The Lotus Eater see related

Adulteress...

She stands near the doorway
Her eyes peer through the crack
Her reflection imitates her in the mirror
The door hinges whine in horror

A dark figure looms over her shoulder
And the mirror watches her face pale
Her mind escapes reality hastily
Icy breath covers her weak body

Her eyelids shut tightly together
The creature’s arm upholds her stature
As if to swoon, she collapses
In the arms of Satan, she rests her soul

Slowly, they devilishly dance
Damning every moment speedily
The demon lifts her up effortlessly
Her ears hear the whispers of deception

It lays her down upon the floor
She now returns to her sanity
Her eyes flutter open as a butterfly
Yet a parasite lingers over her body

Her soul stares into evil incarnate
Her body lies helplessly paralyzed
Awaiting the kiss of death, steps are heard
The devil sees into the mirror before him

The face of immorality fills with fear
The angel of sin exits exuberantly
She rises to behold her Liberator
Her Husband stands in the doorway

Currently Listening The Glory of God Shear Jasub see related

Writing workshop...

The Ice Storm

There was one week that dwelt in the minds of the Four States for a long time. This period of time was when a storm hovered over our homes from December 14-19, 2007. It iced relentlessly upon our town for two straight days. As if that were not enough, the thick ice caused many trees to collapse and break, which was followed by fallen power lines. After that, it was the extreme low temperatures that characterized this “joyful” season. Shelters were created and people went to friends and family to get warm, but some had decided to stay home and fight the cold. Some people lost their lives and some were near the edge of joining those poor souls. I endured the monstrous bitter cold, saw realistic dreams, considered survival or surrender, and returned home.

I lied in my drafty house with the bitter cold that slowly ate away the feeling in my legs and arms. It was moments after the electricity had died. My extremities had already passed into a world of nonexistence. It was as if they were no longer there. My family and I did not know what we could do in this situation. With such thoughts, my mind began to dwell on the possibility of passing into the next dimension and experiencing the sweet release of mortal death. Perhaps, I was going mad. I was longing for some kind of comfort of warmness, but I found none in the dark, dank room. The cold darkness began to embody itself in a ferocious beast that would prey upon its victims in silence. The candles began to dim and flicker, contrary to their intended purpose: this was the indicator that the bitter cold had finally come to keep me unwanted company. I could not imagine what was in store for me.

During this storm, I had a place of refuge, but my stubbornness kept me from accepting this offer for freedom. I wanted to prove something when I had nothing to prove but foolishness. I was constantly looking for something or someone to blame. It was a possibility that the icy air had numbed my perception of the situation. I looked at it as an opportunity to beat the odds and to come out better than I was before, but in reality, it was all a hell that had frozen over, a continual torture and torment that I chose not to escape. I needed to let go of my pride and admit that I was vulnerable like pottery teetering on the edge of a shelf. I battled with myself mentally with every tooth and nail of my will over the frigid night on top of a chilly, stone cold bed. These thoughts followed me into my dreams. In the black of night, I fell into a false reality. I dreamed of two fantasies. The first was a world of light filled with warmth and a single contented bed as the centerpiece of the dream. It was a place of rescue and salvation. It was evident that I had been longing to be liberated from this wintry prison.  Wretchedly, my worst nightmare trailed behind. In this dark environment, I could see myself as I had finally given into the dominion of the black ice. My breath was drawn out of my lungs; my heart ceased to function, and my corpse was laid upon my deathbed. I was no competitor against the curled fist and venomous bite of the winter storm. It would suffer me no more.

When I awakened from my haunting nightmare, I still felt the thin atmosphere above my body. With my dreams fresh on my mind, I realized that I had two choices before me. I must let go of my arrogance or succumb to even more of the deathly sting of coldness. Perchance, this was my first wise decision during the whole experience. I had decided to escape this disaster zone. I left my once called home for a safe haven, a sanctuary. I remember placing my pale and lifeless fingers on the steering wheel of my car dreading the thought that I was still dreaming. The only way to convince myself that I was still in reality was to reach my destination, which was the home of my friend. I grunted due to the difficulty of turning the key in the ignition, but after a few tries, I was on my way. I was so eager to sleep on a warm mattress, to eat hot food, and to feel my nerves again; but I was not able to show such emotion because I was still driving in the cold mist. I saw myself in the reflection of the window running out of my car when I pulled up next to the curb. When I finally entered through the door, I felt the sensation of my warm blood flowing freely through my veins as I walked into this place of protection. It was almost just a memory – heat – the many times I have complained about it could not compare to the amount of appreciation I had for that warmth I felt that evening.

I stayed for the rest of the week, praying for the vile brute of nature to leave. When it was time to leave, the return home was not easy. I was eager to see my home the way it was before the clouds expressed their wrath, but my hopes were dashed when I saw the damage generously decorating the streets and neighbors’ yards. I did not know how I could have missed such a sight when I left home the preceding week. When I was home again, I realized that there would come a time that I would need to repair what was undone physically and structurally. Yet, after everything returned to normal, I never failed to remember that week. Even today, pieces lay upon the earthen floor as a memorial to that wretched time. At the sight of a simple branch or twig, I will reminisce those few days in December. During every black out, I will feel the ice breathe on my neck to haunt me. I will live on to end another generation, but that cold memory will never die.

Fire

            The man lit the candle set upon the dresser. He watches it flicker and flow. He needs the light so he can read his favorite book in the night. He lies on his bed full of sheets and pillows. He situates himself in order to get comfortable. With a swift movement, he turns to the last page he marked. Suddenly, he watches in horror as the candle falls and creates a great fire. He is now the witness of its light, heat, and movement.

            Flames illuminate the room exposing the hidden details of the bedroom. Darkness flees from its opposed enemy. The blanketed shadow unveils the walls glowing with the glimmer of the fire. Light spreads throughout the room bouncing off mirrors and impaling translucent objects, conquering every square inch of the once peaceful room. Many pictures and papers upon the wall now contain an orange tint. The bright beacon of light grows more intense as its body gains strength, feeding off of the cloth materials and adding to the number of its army of flames. A radiance blinds the man with a pale white. Its core is dark and blue without a soul, yet its flame lives in a dazzling display of destruction. The light reflects in the eyes of the man as he begins to feel its grasp upon his body.

            The inferno continues to rage, and the man feels its scorching power. The heat crawls into his nostrils creating steaminess in his dwindling lungs. The air drifts poisoned with the suffocating smoke caused by the burning. The curtains ignite generating a wave of heat that throws the man’s body against the wall of his blazing bedroom. The fingers on his hands begin to blister as if they were set ablaze themselves. The conflagration screams in the form of high temperatures mocking the pitiful wails of the endangered man. He bears periods of agony as he submerses into the sea of heat. Slowly, the sweat upon his skin evaporates into the steamy air. Discomfort reigns in this decomposing room. It was as if the power of the sun now lies on his bed inviting him to continue to feel its presence. Now, this flaming monster moves about the bedroom.

            It dances seductively walking easily over the floorboards consuming the inanimate objects lying across the area. It crawls little by little towards the trapped man. The fuel of hell summons its helpers massing destruction to the man’s surroundings. The mesmerizing patterns of fluidity seep into the memory of the man. The portraits on the wall watch as the flame performs its desecrating ritual. The flammable geyser paves a black road from its starting point to its current residual position. The flames seem to whip into the air above warning the ceiling of its inevitable fate. The blaze angrily crumples the papers into oblivion. The fire’s past home now lies in a puddle of wax for the radiating beast has moved into the entire bedroom. All that is left is the removal of the man.

            Fortunately, the man awakes only to see that the fire had lingered only on the wick of the candle. His book sits on the floor with its pages wrinkled and stained with cold sweat. His warm and heavenly bed forms to the man’s body. The pillow welcomes his weary head. The silence sings softly into his ears confirming to him that all is well and safe. He drifts peacefully back into the world of fantasy. And still, the flame on the candle flickers and flows.