The monster within

entry picture


Think you’re escaping and run into yourself. Longest way round is the shortest way home.


 T'was the night before Christmas,

Or Easter, Whitsun, whenever you like.

It was dark and cold and dreary.

Dark, black night.

For lettered and unlettered alike,

Fearing the roaring of the skies,

Trembling at the dying of the light;

Fear seeped from the miasmic ground.

Wind and the rain alight

Scurrying through the lanes and fields

There was thunder in the air.

She vowed she’d be good, live plain,


Annie dared not turn around,

She dared not breathe too loud, in case

She missed the footfall, the shrieking

In the shroud. Stumbling past the graveyard

A bolt of lightning split the tree and sent her

Stumbling wildly. fearing goblin, ghost and me.

The devil was on the spree.

In the morning her long hair was white

As white can be ......and she....just twenty-three.

◄ The Mathematics of Genocide

Paralysis ►


Big Sal

Sat 29th Dec 2018 22:30

I hope the New Year goes by without a hitch for you, John. Best wishes for 2019, and for all the gems to follow.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message