Dream from the Dying Ember

 Spirits arose from the crimson glow of the pit,

illuminated by the hell beneath and the moon above.

Bat screech maledictions underlay the charcoal crackles,

permeating the phosphorescing skeletal branches

of the forsaken woods,

 

dry, rusty death covering its floor. The witches

slept, their cauldrons long removed from Hades’ flames,

their enchantments continued to echo into the darkness,

awaking crows from their dreams of rotting flesh,

forcing the flies to concede their struggle with the web,

and devouring the king spider by his own miserable appetites.

 

Murder and starvation rang throughout the wilderness

as the sullen wolf howls unheard lamentations

among the unscathed corpses of the pack choked

 

out by the phantoms of the night. The curse

spread like a plague through the morbid forest

leaving few to tell the tale

when morning’s light finally fell upon the ashen,

smoke-scented cemetery.

***

(Minneapolis, MN -- December, 2017)

More spooky, surrealist angst depicting the ghosts left behind by a wildfire.

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EN LAS MANOS DE SATANÁS

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