JamesMByers
James Matthew Byers writes fantasy, horror, science fiction and poetry. #StitchedSmilePublications #Beowulf
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I'm enamored of short-form writing - micropoetry, flash fiction, etc. For this challenge, write an ultrashort story (150 words or fewer). It must have a beginning, a middle, and an end. I will do one, too. Tag me @ruffmiriam
Written by JamesMByers in portal Flash Fiction

She ...

She came into the world a child and grew into a teen as wild: rebellion and a rebel smile upon her face and grace, her style. The years, they passed, compelling course; a girl into an anthem's force and then a woman bold and brave until she lay within her grave.

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I'm enamored of short-form writing - micropoetry, flash fiction, etc. For this challenge, write an ultrashort story (150 words or fewer). It must have a beginning, a middle, and an end. I will do one, too. Tag me @ruffmiriam
Written by JamesMByers in portal Flash Fiction
She ...
She came into the world a child and grew into a teen as wild: rebellion and a rebel smile upon her face and grace, her style. The years, they passed, compelling course; a girl into an anthem's force and then a woman bold and brave until she lay within her grave.
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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by JamesMByers in portal Publishing

Stranger Things ...

The stranger knocked upon the door,

A creaking, wooden throb,

And someone on the other side

Unlatched and turned the knob.

Uncertainty, a soft, "Hello,"

And, "May I use your phone?"

The person on the other side

Appeared to be alone.

An observation taken in,

No pictures on the wall.

He pointed somewhere down the way-

"Go on and make a call."

The thunder boomed; the stranger stalled

As wires were cut instead.

The gentleman began to sense

A subtle hint of dread.

A conversation thus ensued-

"So what has brought you out?

The rain has flooded everything,

And wiped away the drought.

Say, did you walk, or did you drive?

Why don't I take your coat?"

The stranger slowly moved his arms,

A sentimental gloat.

The water from the pouring skies

Enveloped cloth and shoe.

"Say, would you like a place to sleep?

I'll leave it up to you."

The person on the other side

Discarded his mistrust.

The stranger said his tire was flat,

And shed the muddy crust.

"The phone won't work," he also said.

"It could just be the storm.

Perhaps I will stay here tonight,

To keep me safe and warm."

The patron of the house agreed.

He hadn't seen the wire.

The chilly dampness prompted him

To quickly build a fire.

"You have a name? They call me Ed.

My wife was Verna Dean.

She passed away five years ago

And left me here as seen.

I guess it's really not so bad.

We never had a child.

I loved that Verna awful much,"

He said and sadly smiled.

"No property to divvy up.

The bank will get it all.

Say, do you want to try again

To go and make that call?"

The stranger grinned and left the flame

As to the phone he strode.

Within his pocket, knives and twine

In hiding seemed to goad.

A plan was formed- he'd kill the man;

Eviscerate him whole.

The twine would keep him firmly held;

The knife would steal his soul.

A lusty surge erupted hence;

A wicked bit of sin.

The stranger hadn't noticed yet

That someone else came in.

About the time a shadow fell,

He spun to meet a pan.

The room around him faded out

As eyes looked on a man.

A day or two it seemed had passed,

And when he woke all tied,

The stranger gazed upon old Ed

Who simply said, "You lied."

Reversing thoughts, the moment fled

And Ed said in a lean,

"No worries, stranger. None at all.

Hey, look, here's Verna Dean!"

He looked upon a wraith in rage;

It seemed his little lie

Combusted in a burning fit-

He didn't want to die.

So many victims in his life,

Some fifty bodies strewn.

And now he was the victim; now

The pain to him was known.

The stranger fought against the twine,

And noticed by his bed

The knife once in his pocket left

A trail of something red.

A bowl filled full of organs sat

As Verna poured some salt.

She exited with all of them.

"You know, this is your fault.

We demons wait for just the day

The guilty take the bait

And play with matches one last time-

I simply cannot wait

To taste the death within your flesh;

The venom in your gut.

So now you know the way they felt-

Hey, you've got quite a cut!"

The person on the other side

Removed his human skin-

Before his wife came back for more,

He offered with a grin:

"Say, stranger, is there anything

You'd like to say at all?"

I looked at all the blood and said,

"I'd like to make that call ... "

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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by JamesMByers in portal Publishing
Stranger Things ...
The stranger knocked upon the door,
A creaking, wooden throb,
And someone on the other side
Unlatched and turned the knob.
Uncertainty, a soft, "Hello,"
And, "May I use your phone?"
The person on the other side
Appeared to be alone.
An observation taken in,
No pictures on the wall.
He pointed somewhere down the way-
"Go on and make a call."
The thunder boomed; the stranger stalled
As wires were cut instead.
The gentleman began to sense
A subtle hint of dread.
A conversation thus ensued-
"So what has brought you out?
The rain has flooded everything,
And wiped away the drought.
Say, did you walk, or did you drive?
Why don't I take your coat?"
The stranger slowly moved his arms,
A sentimental gloat.
The water from the pouring skies
Enveloped cloth and shoe.
"Say, would you like a place to sleep?
I'll leave it up to you."
The person on the other side
Discarded his mistrust.
The stranger said his tire was flat,
And shed the muddy crust.
"The phone won't work," he also said.
"It could just be the storm.
Perhaps I will stay here tonight,
To keep me safe and warm."
The patron of the house agreed.
He hadn't seen the wire.
The chilly dampness prompted him
To quickly build a fire.
"You have a name? They call me Ed.
My wife was Verna Dean.
She passed away five years ago
And left me here as seen.
I guess it's really not so bad.
We never had a child.
I loved that Verna awful much,"
He said and sadly smiled.
"No property to divvy up.
The bank will get it all.
Say, do you want to try again
To go and make that call?"
The stranger grinned and left the flame
As to the phone he strode.
Within his pocket, knives and twine
In hiding seemed to goad.
A plan was formed- he'd kill the man;
Eviscerate him whole.
The twine would keep him firmly held;
The knife would steal his soul.
A lusty surge erupted hence;
A wicked bit of sin.
The stranger hadn't noticed yet
That someone else came in.
About the time a shadow fell,
He spun to meet a pan.
The room around him faded out
As eyes looked on a man.
A day or two it seemed had passed,
And when he woke all tied,
The stranger gazed upon old Ed
Who simply said, "You lied."
Reversing thoughts, the moment fled
And Ed said in a lean,
"No worries, stranger. None at all.
Hey, look, here's Verna Dean!"
He looked upon a wraith in rage;
It seemed his little lie
Combusted in a burning fit-
He didn't want to die.
So many victims in his life,
Some fifty bodies strewn.
And now he was the victim; now
The pain to him was known.
The stranger fought against the twine,
And noticed by his bed
The knife once in his pocket left
A trail of something red.
A bowl filled full of organs sat
As Verna poured some salt.
She exited with all of them.
"You know, this is your fault.
We demons wait for just the day
The guilty take the bait
And play with matches one last time-
I simply cannot wait
To taste the death within your flesh;
The venom in your gut.
So now you know the way they felt-
Hey, you've got quite a cut!"
The person on the other side
Removed his human skin-
Before his wife came back for more,
He offered with a grin:
"Say, stranger, is there anything
You'd like to say at all?"
I looked at all the blood and said,
"I'd like to make that call ... "
























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Written by JamesMByers in portal Poetry & Free Verse

We the People

We the people won't divide

We simply will unite

We the people shine our pride

We band and stand to fight

We the people must align

No matter black or white

We the people are the sign

We only make things right

We the people overcome

Regardless of our creed

We the people, not just some

All share a common need

We the people get to love

No matter, gay or straight

We the people conquer fear

We all can conquer hate

We the people have the will

We exercise belief

We the people, stronger still

Must comfort those in grief

We the people make this land

The yellow and the red

We the people, hand in hand

The melting pot gets fed

We the people get to choose

This country is our voice

We the people didn't lose

We still are given choice

We the people have a chance

Religious freedom here

We the people make a stance

To rise and make it clear

We the people must be one

We mustn't slip and fall

We the people are the sun

We'll shine above it all

We the people, not one man

Or woman, duly give

We the people have a plan

Let's love and laugh and live

We the people march to say

The anthem shall persist

We the people, rainbow rock

Together we resist ...

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Written by JamesMByers in portal Poetry & Free Verse
We the People
We the people won't divide
We simply will unite
We the people shine our pride
We band and stand to fight
We the people must align
No matter black or white
We the people are the sign
We only make things right
We the people overcome
Regardless of our creed
We the people, not just some
All share a common need
We the people get to love
No matter, gay or straight
We the people conquer fear
We all can conquer hate
We the people have the will
We exercise belief
We the people, stronger still
Must comfort those in grief
We the people make this land
The yellow and the red
We the people, hand in hand
The melting pot gets fed
We the people get to choose
This country is our voice
We the people didn't lose
We still are given choice
We the people have a chance
Religious freedom here
We the people make a stance
To rise and make it clear
We the people must be one
We mustn't slip and fall
We the people are the sun
We'll shine above it all
We the people, not one man
Or woman, duly give
We the people have a plan
Let's love and laugh and live
We the people march to say
The anthem shall persist
We the people, rainbow rock
Together we resist ...
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Go on and let love unleash it all write a poem, prose, blank verse, haiku anything at all everything is accepted declaring how much you love your lover. HAPPY VALENTINES DAY do not forget to send this after you finish writing to your lover. Enjoy!
Written by JamesMByers

Release

A heart, an arrow, cupid's aim

Apart are narrow, just a game.

Together they are love in force,

Forever staying firm the course.

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Go on and let love unleash it all write a poem, prose, blank verse, haiku anything at all everything is accepted declaring how much you love your lover. HAPPY VALENTINES DAY do not forget to send this after you finish writing to your lover. Enjoy!
Written by JamesMByers
Release
A heart, an arrow, cupid's aim
Apart are narrow, just a game.
Together they are love in force,
Forever staying firm the course.
#romance  #poetry  #love  #culture  #valentinesday 
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Challenge of the Week #57: you’re god; rewrite the creation story. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by JamesMByers

Propagation

The Origin

1- 1 When it began, the Goddess sang-

Existence made its way.

Explosions carved the universe

As She unfolded clay.

2 The earth held nothing in its form

Aside from empty dark.

The Goddess crafted sod and sea;

Her spirit made its mark.

3 The angels She created next-

Of wing and feral might.

Emblazoned with a fiery core,

An army willed to fight.

4 And then She said, “Come forth, the light!”

She saw that this was good.

Amazed, the ushered breath and beast;

She crafted earth and wood.

5 A separation of the void,

She called them night and day.

A sphere of fire to keep the morn,

A moon where dark would stay.

6 Upon the realm of Midgard’s turf

In waters rushing flow,

The Goddess spoke and ushered fish

Beneath the undertow.

7 Upon the lands, the angels flew

Ensuring life evolved.

The smallest to the greatest spread,

A manifest resolved.

8 The Goddess called her angels back,

Decreeing, “Be it so-

That all I make shall reproduce-

Increasing ebb and flow.”

9 And Midgard teemed with floral growth;

The fauna filled the land.

The angels blessed the beast and bird

As was their first command.

10 Although the world begotten brimmed

In life of every thing,

The Goddess felt an emptiness

Compelling her to sing.

11 A garden formed of lush delight

Encapsulating all

Invoked as She unleashed a song

And wrought mankind in thrall.

12 The major chords she ushered forth

Ensnared the dirt and mud,

And in her image came the first-

A human, flesh and blood.

Lilith and Adam

2- 1 And so it was, creation bloomed-

The Goddess placed her spark

Embedding every living thing

Between the light and dark.

2 Around the garden walked abroad

A woman of the earth.

The Goddess smiled at what she saw,

Creating in her mirth.

3 She called her Lilith, wrath of storm,

The Goddess lullaby.

She raised her up above the beasts;

The angels in the sky.

4 And though all pleasures she partook,

A sorrow swallowed whole.

The Goddess made the woman sleep

To form another soul.

5 The moment She began her song,

A rib from Lilith spurned

Another- man- as Adam came-

And passion in him burned.

6 Now, Lilith did not like the man-

He tried to rule her form.

But she refused his thirsty lust;

No, she would not conform.

The Descent

3- 1 Rejected, he walked through the wood

Until he heard a voice-

“Dear Adam, you have much to learn-

My son, you have a choice.”

2 The dragon, once called Lucifer,

Had fallen from a star.

Enticing Adam with his lies,

He whispered, “There you are!”

3 As Adam stood before the beast,

A newfound feeling swelled.

“What can I do to make her mine?

To make her heart compelled?”

4 “Oh, Adam, you have every right-

Absolve your flesh in her.”

The great deceiver coaxed his prey

And Adam would concur.

5 Unknown to either of the two,

The Goddess crafted more-

She called them dwarves and others elves,

The myths of ancient lore.

6 As it would be, a dwarf about

The garden heard the plan.

He raced to Lilith, full of fear,

And thus betrayed the man.

7 The garden, Eden it was called,

Invited Adam home.

And Lilith waited, open arms;

Beside her stood a gnome.

8 “So, Mother has created more-

And here you wait for me.

I have a tale to share with you-

An act to set you free."

9 Upon these words, the dwarf appeared

And angels flew below

Arresting Adam ere he stood,

For what, he did not know.

10 “What meaning do you have for this!

I am of Goddess craft!”

Ignoring him, they tied him up

And placed him on a raft.

11 As Lilith watched him float away,

She noticed in his grasp

A piece of fruit from off a tree

Secured within a clasp.

12 The crafty dragon then appeared

And freed the man to dine.

“The Tree of Good and Evil- yes!

Behold- it is now mine!”

13 Of all they were allowed to eat,

The fruit from off one tree

The Goddess had forbidden them-

It birthed eternity.

14 As Adam fled atop the beast,

An an angel came to guard

The entrance into Eden’s realm-

A blazing, shining shard.

15 The dwarves and elves rejoiced to see

The man depart their land.

As Lilith utilized her skills,

The Goddess found it grand.

16 A blessing over Eden’s girth,

Reviving all inside

And laugher flourished plant to plane-

A gift she would provide.

Fallen Angels and Adam’s Daughters

4- 1 Outside of Eden, Adam’s lust

Increased as he would find

A race of creatures, humanoid,

In which his loins would grind.

2 The offspring grew in wonderment

And angels fell from grace

The same as Lucifer had been,

Succumbing in that place.

3 As Adam had him many wives,

So, too, the angels took

To bed his daughters, full of sin,

Depicted in this book.

4 Abominations they produced,

The giants and monsters spawned

Devoured the outer world around

As evil newly dawned.

5 And still they could not enter in

The gates of Eden’s port.

The Goddess kept her promises

And Lilith ruled her court.

6 The angels, each a different brand-

A lion, and eagle, and

A bull defended Lilith’s woods-

And kept filth from her land.

7 For Adam daily tried his best

To take back all denied.

And yet the Goddess blocked attempts

No matter how he tried.

8 The dwarves and elves and other kind

Among the woodland’s hold

Arose to worship Lilith’s Queen

And forged the Goddess gold.

9 Too closely to the outside world

A few dwarves ventured near.

The monsters sensed the wealth and vowed

To offer hateful fear.

10 Again, day out and in, they tried

But Eden’s troupe prevailed.

It seemed a futile quest, indeed

For every time, they failed.

11 The dragon formed a vengeful plan,

And Adam fell in line.

No matter how they changed the course,

The Goddess proved divine.

12 And I would know, for She is me-

We are one in the same.

The garden holds a hidden myth,

And Lilith is her name …

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Challenge of the Week #57: you’re god; rewrite the creation story. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by JamesMByers
Propagation
The Origin

1- 1 When it began, the Goddess sang-
Existence made its way.
Explosions carved the universe
As She unfolded clay.
2 The earth held nothing in its form
Aside from empty dark.
The Goddess crafted sod and sea;
Her spirit made its mark.
3 The angels She created next-
Of wing and feral might.
Emblazoned with a fiery core,
An army willed to fight.
4 And then She said, “Come forth, the light!”
She saw that this was good.
Amazed, the ushered breath and beast;
She crafted earth and wood.
5 A separation of the void,
She called them night and day.
A sphere of fire to keep the morn,
A moon where dark would stay.
6 Upon the realm of Midgard’s turf
In waters rushing flow,
The Goddess spoke and ushered fish
Beneath the undertow.
7 Upon the lands, the angels flew
Ensuring life evolved.
The smallest to the greatest spread,
A manifest resolved.
8 The Goddess called her angels back,
Decreeing, “Be it so-
That all I make shall reproduce-
Increasing ebb and flow.”
9 And Midgard teemed with floral growth;
The fauna filled the land.
The angels blessed the beast and bird
As was their first command.
10 Although the world begotten brimmed
In life of every thing,
The Goddess felt an emptiness
Compelling her to sing.
11 A garden formed of lush delight
Encapsulating all
Invoked as She unleashed a song
And wrought mankind in thrall.
12 The major chords she ushered forth
Ensnared the dirt and mud,
And in her image came the first-
A human, flesh and blood.

Lilith and Adam

2- 1 And so it was, creation bloomed-
The Goddess placed her spark
Embedding every living thing
Between the light and dark.
2 Around the garden walked abroad
A woman of the earth.
The Goddess smiled at what she saw,
Creating in her mirth.
3 She called her Lilith, wrath of storm,
The Goddess lullaby.
She raised her up above the beasts;
The angels in the sky.
4 And though all pleasures she partook,
A sorrow swallowed whole.
The Goddess made the woman sleep
To form another soul.
5 The moment She began her song,
A rib from Lilith spurned
Another- man- as Adam came-
And passion in him burned.
6 Now, Lilith did not like the man-
He tried to rule her form.
But she refused his thirsty lust;
No, she would not conform.

The Descent

3- 1 Rejected, he walked through the wood
Until he heard a voice-
“Dear Adam, you have much to learn-
My son, you have a choice.”
2 The dragon, once called Lucifer,
Had fallen from a star.
Enticing Adam with his lies,
He whispered, “There you are!”
3 As Adam stood before the beast,
A newfound feeling swelled.
“What can I do to make her mine?
To make her heart compelled?”
4 “Oh, Adam, you have every right-
Absolve your flesh in her.”
The great deceiver coaxed his prey
And Adam would concur.
5 Unknown to either of the two,
The Goddess crafted more-
She called them dwarves and others elves,
The myths of ancient lore.
6 As it would be, a dwarf about
The garden heard the plan.
He raced to Lilith, full of fear,
And thus betrayed the man.
7 The garden, Eden it was called,
Invited Adam home.
And Lilith waited, open arms;
Beside her stood a gnome.
8 “So, Mother has created more-
And here you wait for me.
I have a tale to share with you-
An act to set you free."
9 Upon these words, the dwarf appeared
And angels flew below
Arresting Adam ere he stood,
For what, he did not know.
10 “What meaning do you have for this!
I am of Goddess craft!”
Ignoring him, they tied him up
And placed him on a raft.
11 As Lilith watched him float away,
She noticed in his grasp
A piece of fruit from off a tree
Secured within a clasp.
12 The crafty dragon then appeared
And freed the man to dine.
“The Tree of Good and Evil- yes!
Behold- it is now mine!”
13 Of all they were allowed to eat,
The fruit from off one tree
The Goddess had forbidden them-
It birthed eternity.
14 As Adam fled atop the beast,
An an angel came to guard
The entrance into Eden’s realm-
A blazing, shining shard.
15 The dwarves and elves rejoiced to see
The man depart their land.
As Lilith utilized her skills,
The Goddess found it grand.
16 A blessing over Eden’s girth,
Reviving all inside
And laugher flourished plant to plane-
A gift she would provide.

Fallen Angels and Adam’s Daughters

4- 1 Outside of Eden, Adam’s lust
Increased as he would find
A race of creatures, humanoid,
In which his loins would grind.
2 The offspring grew in wonderment
And angels fell from grace
The same as Lucifer had been,
Succumbing in that place.
3 As Adam had him many wives,
So, too, the angels took
To bed his daughters, full of sin,
Depicted in this book.
4 Abominations they produced,
The giants and monsters spawned
Devoured the outer world around
As evil newly dawned.
5 And still they could not enter in
The gates of Eden’s port.
The Goddess kept her promises
And Lilith ruled her court.
6 The angels, each a different brand-
A lion, and eagle, and
A bull defended Lilith’s woods-
And kept filth from her land.
7 For Adam daily tried his best
To take back all denied.
And yet the Goddess blocked attempts
No matter how he tried.
8 The dwarves and elves and other kind
Among the woodland’s hold
Arose to worship Lilith’s Queen
And forged the Goddess gold.
9 Too closely to the outside world
A few dwarves ventured near.
The monsters sensed the wealth and vowed
To offer hateful fear.
10 Again, day out and in, they tried
But Eden’s troupe prevailed.
It seemed a futile quest, indeed
For every time, they failed.
11 The dragon formed a vengeful plan,
And Adam fell in line.
No matter how they changed the course,
The Goddess proved divine.
12 And I would know, for She is me-
We are one in the same.
The garden holds a hidden myth,
And Lilith is her name …
#fantasy  #poetry  #prosechallenge  #Itslit  #getlit 
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Written by JamesMByers in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Rosa Parks

Mother, movement, civil rights-

These words are not enough,

Praising her in darkest nights,

Convincing, brave, and tough …


Rosa Parks, in fifty-five,

December, chose to change,

Chance the tribulation’s jive

So things could rearrange.


Southern ranking prejudice,

Compounded in its fuss,

Valued in its edifice,

To force her on a bus


Placing her beyond the rear,

Despite an empty seat.

Rosa Parks removed her fear

And planted firmly feet.


Busses were a public choice,

A transportation screen,

Rosa spoke her mind and voice

But met with the obscene.


Driver called the cops and fueled

Requesting her arrest

On that day injustice ruled,

As “white laws” would attest.


She, a woman of great class,

Prevailing in her cause

Would not let such hatred pass-

Discrimination’s claws.


Peace and civil liberty,

She sought a greater good.

Stood to thwart hypocrisy

As truth was understood.


Rosa let the caged bird sing,

America would hear.

Dr. Martin Luther King

Responded in his cheer.


Jr. praised her every move-

Responsive in his pride,

Equal rights, the cog and groove-

They could not be denied.


Alabama, in the South

A woman rightly proved

Action spoke as freedom’s mouth-

“No, I shall not be moved.”


Thunder under foot about;

Her race marched to her roar,

Gentle lioness’s shout-

Abiding shore to shore.


Black and white, uneven two,

Until all joined as one-

Making grey the common hue

As justice would be done.


Statutes offered pressed in shape

But Rosa Parks declined

Separation’s falling drape

Created color blind.


Equal as no skin tone made

A man or woman less,

Virtuousity displayed

Her presence would confess.


Truly she was awe inspired

In civil movement’s flare.

Perseverance never tired-

She held the torch with care.


Raising still the blazing marks

If prejudice may call,

Thanks to those like Rosa Parks

Equality for all


Will not slip into the cracks

Of failure, sewn in thread

Joining hands of whites and blacks,

Together, breaking bread.


Rosa now has gone away,

A mother, matron, queen.

Victory is on display-

Equality is seen …


Truly missed, defeating plights-

A soul that kindles sparks,

“Mother of all Civil Rights”

For you, Mrs. Rosa Parks.

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Written by JamesMByers in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Rosa Parks
Mother, movement, civil rights-
These words are not enough,
Praising her in darkest nights,
Convincing, brave, and tough …

Rosa Parks, in fifty-five,
December, chose to change,
Chance the tribulation’s jive
So things could rearrange.

Southern ranking prejudice,
Compounded in its fuss,
Valued in its edifice,
To force her on a bus

Placing her beyond the rear,
Despite an empty seat.
Rosa Parks removed her fear
And planted firmly feet.

Busses were a public choice,
A transportation screen,
Rosa spoke her mind and voice
But met with the obscene.

Driver called the cops and fueled
Requesting her arrest
On that day injustice ruled,
As “white laws” would attest.

She, a woman of great class,
Prevailing in her cause
Would not let such hatred pass-
Discrimination’s claws.

Peace and civil liberty,
She sought a greater good.
Stood to thwart hypocrisy
As truth was understood.

Rosa let the caged bird sing,
America would hear.
Dr. Martin Luther King
Responded in his cheer.

Jr. praised her every move-
Responsive in his pride,
Equal rights, the cog and groove-
They could not be denied.

Alabama, in the South
A woman rightly proved
Action spoke as freedom’s mouth-
“No, I shall not be moved.”

Thunder under foot about;
Her race marched to her roar,
Gentle lioness’s shout-
Abiding shore to shore.

Black and white, uneven two,
Until all joined as one-
Making grey the common hue
As justice would be done.

Statutes offered pressed in shape
But Rosa Parks declined
Separation’s falling drape
Created color blind.

Equal as no skin tone made
A man or woman less,
Virtuousity displayed
Her presence would confess.

Truly she was awe inspired
In civil movement’s flare.
Perseverance never tired-
She held the torch with care.

Raising still the blazing marks
If prejudice may call,
Thanks to those like Rosa Parks
Equality for all

Will not slip into the cracks
Of failure, sewn in thread
Joining hands of whites and blacks,
Together, breaking bread.

Rosa now has gone away,
A mother, matron, queen.
Victory is on display-
Equality is seen …

Truly missed, defeating plights-
A soul that kindles sparks,
“Mother of all Civil Rights”
For you, Mrs. Rosa Parks.
#nonfiction  #education  #poetry  #culture  #BlackHistoryMonth 
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Challenge of the Week #56: Write the beginning of a story about a tyrannical king who threatens the entire realm. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by JamesMByers

Ego, Porridge, and a Dwarf

     Falling to her knees, Acirema wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth. Many times she had been beaten, and many times she had gotten back up. Servitude seemed her only reality. Desperation settled in, but beneath each heartbeat nestled the sound of hope. King Dlanod laughed. She expected this.

     "My porridge was too cold. How can you expect me to eat it cold?”

Mustering the strength to stand, the young dwarf looked her king in the eyes as she moved to the bowl. In his anger, he had tipped it over. Hurriedly wiping up the mess, she dabbed the blood from her latest slap as she collected the utensils that had fallen around his routine seating arrangement.

     “Perhaps your porridge might taste better if you hadn't banned all the elves from our kingdom, sire? They cooked. We dwarves are miners and smiths, not short order chefs. Don't you remember the feasts you once had?”

     The orange ogre turned and slapped Acirema to the ground again. The wooden bowl flung across the room, skidding along the way. Shaking it off, the dwarf moved one knee at a time until she slowly collected the bowl and spoon she dropped from his attack.

     “You are not my advisor,” he sneered. “I do what must be done for this kingdom in order to provide peace, security and freedom. The elves, gnomes, and fairies got in my way. You're lucky. I loathe your race. But you do as you're told so I keep them around. Look at this nation now. The orcs, ogres, and goblins shall proposer under my intelligence! Everyone else can get in line or be destroyed.”

     Moving to the nearby window, the dwarf servant peered outside. The second sun was rising. Though she could barely make out the faces of those below her, she sensed something in each person making their way about life ... hope. A glimmer resonated through each step taken. And though many of them were headed to work on the great stone wall King Dlanod enforced as a tribute, the unity his reign cemented among the many tribes reassured her all was not lost. 

     Whips cracked. Chains clanked. But the music they produced formed a new beat in her heart; a rhythm in her soul. She called it freedom. Thinking of her former king, Amabo, she knew a leader could be wise and kind. In this moment she thought of her people.

     Looking back at her beastly ruler on her way to the kitchen, Acirema smiled. Things were changing. Perhaps she wouldn't be beaten down forever. Perhaps, if those people felt the same as she did, together they could make a difference. She rounded the corner and entered the chef’s quarter humming the tune of days to come. For now, she had to make the porridge ...

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Challenge of the Week #56: Write the beginning of a story about a tyrannical king who threatens the entire realm. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by JamesMByers
Ego, Porridge, and a Dwarf
     Falling to her knees, Acirema wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth. Many times she had been beaten, and many times she had gotten back up. Servitude seemed her only reality. Desperation settled in, but beneath each heartbeat nestled the sound of hope. King Dlanod laughed. She expected this.

     "My porridge was too cold. How can you expect me to eat it cold?”

Mustering the strength to stand, the young dwarf looked her king in the eyes as she moved to the bowl. In his anger, he had tipped it over. Hurriedly wiping up the mess, she dabbed the blood from her latest slap as she collected the utensils that had fallen around his routine seating arrangement.

     “Perhaps your porridge might taste better if you hadn't banned all the elves from our kingdom, sire? They cooked. We dwarves are miners and smiths, not short order chefs. Don't you remember the feasts you once had?”

     The orange ogre turned and slapped Acirema to the ground again. The wooden bowl flung across the room, skidding along the way. Shaking it off, the dwarf moved one knee at a time until she slowly collected the bowl and spoon she dropped from his attack.

     “You are not my advisor,” he sneered. “I do what must be done for this kingdom in order to provide peace, security and freedom. The elves, gnomes, and fairies got in my way. You're lucky. I loathe your race. But you do as you're told so I keep them around. Look at this nation now. The orcs, ogres, and goblins shall proposer under my intelligence! Everyone else can get in line or be destroyed.”

     Moving to the nearby window, the dwarf servant peered outside. The second sun was rising. Though she could barely make out the faces of those below her, she sensed something in each person making their way about life ... hope. A glimmer resonated through each step taken. And though many of them were headed to work on the great stone wall King Dlanod enforced as a tribute, the unity his reign cemented among the many tribes reassured her all was not lost. 

     Whips cracked. Chains clanked. But the music they produced formed a new beat in her heart; a rhythm in her soul. She called it freedom. Thinking of her former king, Amabo, she knew a leader could be wise and kind. In this moment she thought of her people.

     Looking back at her beastly ruler on her way to the kitchen, Acirema smiled. Things were changing. Perhaps she wouldn't be beaten down forever. Perhaps, if those people felt the same as she did, together they could make a difference. She rounded the corner and entered the chef’s quarter humming the tune of days to come. For now, she had to make the porridge ...
#fantasy  #fiction  #prosechallenge  #Itslit  #getlit 
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Write about a person, place, or thing related to Black History. Dead or alive. Real or imagined. Offensive or uplifting. Make the reader feel deeply about the Black experience in America, even if you are not Black. The winner will receive $50 cash money from me, and be featured on my social media platforms.
Written by JamesMByers in portal Poetry & Free Verse

"I Have a Dream ... "

I have a dream, as all men bleed-

This nation will embrace its creed:

"Equality for one and all,

Let freedom ring and racists fall."

I have a dream, in Georgia's wood-

A peaceful feast of brotherhood

As former sons of slaves unite

With sons of owners, bite for bite.

I have a dream, and it is sweet-

That even Mississippi's heat-

That heat of vile oppression's snare-

Will disappear and clear the air!

I have a dream, let me begin-

No one will judge for shade of skin,

And my four children will delight ...

Regardless black, regardless white.

I have a dream, a dream today!

And no, it will not go away.

That color does not make a man-

The content of the person can!

I have a dream, a rising noise-

That little girls and little boys

Of colors black and white will stand

Together, walking hand in hand!

I have a dream, a dream today!

In Alabama, what I say

Will vex the governor until

Those racists words must simply still ...

I have a dream, the valleys, high,

And mountains brought below the sky

Along the rough now smooth and plain-

The crooked, straight, will all remain.

As I move South, this faith and hope

Is carried with me as I grope

The hammer to beat down the stone

Of tyranny from off his throne!

In this faith, we will lift the Lord,

In brotherhood; in one accord-

In this faith, we will all prevail-

In struggles, joys, or even jail!

And this will be the greatest day-

The day when all God's children say:

"My country, 'tis of only thee-

Arise, oh land of liberty!"

And if America will be

The nation that we long to see-

Then freedom must upon each shore

Arise and travel door to door!

From New York, we let freedom ring!

From Pennsylvania, freedom ring!

From Colorado, freedom ring!

From California, freedom ring!

From Georgia, we let freedom ring!

From Tennessee, let freedom ring!

From Mississippi, freedom ring!

From every corner, freedom ring!

And when this happens, we will sing-

The majesty this day shall bring

As all God's children, black and white,

Go singing into that good night ...

"Oh, free at last, oh, free at last!

We overcome our father's past!

Remember we must make it last-

Oh, God Almighty, free at last!"

*This is a rhyming paraphrase of an excerpt from Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s famous speech.

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Write about a person, place, or thing related to Black History. Dead or alive. Real or imagined. Offensive or uplifting. Make the reader feel deeply about the Black experience in America, even if you are not Black. The winner will receive $50 cash money from me, and be featured on my social media platforms.
Written by JamesMByers in portal Poetry & Free Verse
"I Have a Dream ... "
I have a dream, as all men bleed-
This nation will embrace its creed:
"Equality for one and all,
Let freedom ring and racists fall."

I have a dream, in Georgia's wood-
A peaceful feast of brotherhood
As former sons of slaves unite
With sons of owners, bite for bite.

I have a dream, and it is sweet-
That even Mississippi's heat-
That heat of vile oppression's snare-
Will disappear and clear the air!

I have a dream, let me begin-
No one will judge for shade of skin,
And my four children will delight ...
Regardless black, regardless white.

I have a dream, a dream today!
And no, it will not go away.
That color does not make a man-
The content of the person can!

I have a dream, a rising noise-
That little girls and little boys
Of colors black and white will stand
Together, walking hand in hand!

I have a dream, a dream today!
In Alabama, what I say
Will vex the governor until
Those racists words must simply still ...

I have a dream, the valleys, high,
And mountains brought below the sky
Along the rough now smooth and plain-
The crooked, straight, will all remain.

As I move South, this faith and hope
Is carried with me as I grope
The hammer to beat down the stone
Of tyranny from off his throne!

In this faith, we will lift the Lord,
In brotherhood; in one accord-
In this faith, we will all prevail-
In struggles, joys, or even jail!

And this will be the greatest day-
The day when all God's children say:
"My country, 'tis of only thee-
Arise, oh land of liberty!"

And if America will be
The nation that we long to see-
Then freedom must upon each shore
Arise and travel door to door!

From New York, we let freedom ring!
From Pennsylvania, freedom ring!
From Colorado, freedom ring!
From California, freedom ring!

From Georgia, we let freedom ring!
From Tennessee, let freedom ring!
From Mississippi, freedom ring!
From every corner, freedom ring!

And when this happens, we will sing-
The majesty this day shall bring
As all God's children, black and white,
Go singing into that good night ...

"Oh, free at last, oh, free at last!
We overcome our father's past!
Remember we must make it last-
Oh, God Almighty, free at last!"

*This is a rhyming paraphrase of an excerpt from Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s famous speech.
#education  #poetry  #politics  #culture  #BlackHistoryMonth 
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Written by JamesMByers in portal Horror & Thriller

Sweet Revenge

Soumya painted on the bed.

The thousandth time her canvas, red,

Exploded in the splotchy scene-

A dying man bereft a spleen.

Eternity, her lot it seemed,

Ascended past the life she dreamed

And when a knife drew drops of blood,

The echoes washed her as a flood-

Soumya, now a hell spawned leech

Embracing powers in her reach,

Decided prisons of the mind

Elicited her only bind.

A succubus now summed the length

Of who she was; her inner strength

For tasty vengeance had a price-

A serial in murder's vice,

And when the Lord of Hell took note,

It's wasn't long before the tote

And totem of her fancied style

Became his glowing, wicked smile.

"Soumya," Lucifer would say,

"Now run along! Those boys you slay

Are quite delightful in my fold.

Your methods, well, are bloody gold!"

And who was she to turn this down?

Revenge, avenge, it was her crown!

"The devil's due," she often said

And bottled blood; she loved to shred

The entrails of some hapless fool,

And sometimes she would even drool.

Enamored with a life of lust

At times could be a bumming bust,

A demon hidden underneath

The outward flesh; her garland wreath

For luring mortals in the trap

Until fatigued, they took a nap.

Unmitigated horror's cape

Surrounded as she bore the shape

Of who she was inside the skin.

She knew the devil wore a grin

For Lucifer, above them all,

Expected death to be a ball.

The wanton wreckage she would leave

Suppressed the notion some would grieve.

Or maybe not; most been were gags-

Cremated ash; assorted bags

Atop her head, a sweet disguise.

No graves to mourn their hollow eyes.

The lipstick shades around her mouth

Bespoke of somewhere deeper south.

This time, however, feeling guilt,

She wore it like her mother's quilt-

The one she used to use at night

Before her rape and loss of sight-

The way a mortal values life.

The only thing she loved- her knife-

Invited freedom from the pain.

Unfortunate, for Hell's domain

Explicitly endured the plot-

A torture field; a lake so hot

The demons even felt it's heat.

No, there was nothing safe or sweet

And as Soumya entered through

The gates, she longed for life's renew.

Surprised, she found a rose of black.

Accepting it, she saw a stack

Of petals urging her to move.

The sadness losing in a groove

Rekindled something she forgot-

The pang of joy; the tummy knot.

And as she went into a flame,

Her parting lips released a name:

"So, Lucifer, what have you done?"

The devil smirked, "Let's have some fun!"

Soumya, startled, took a chance-

Enveloped in his horned romance.

However, what he didn't know-

The succubus had seeds to grow

And as she used a special blade,

She stole his life; his body flayed.

"Now who's the Lord of Hell, you pig!

It's just another grave to dig.

No biggie; nah, I'll toss you in

And gorge myself on every sin.

You see, those men who took my youth

Devised their plans from you; my proof

A simple visit to the lake-

A soul in torment, no mistake,

Becomes an open book, you see.

So all of Hell belongs to me."

And as she sucked him, munching bone,

She sat atop his gleaming throne.

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Written by JamesMByers in portal Horror & Thriller
Sweet Revenge
Soumya painted on the bed.
The thousandth time her canvas, red,
Exploded in the splotchy scene-
A dying man bereft a spleen.
Eternity, her lot it seemed,
Ascended past the life she dreamed
And when a knife drew drops of blood,
The echoes washed her as a flood-
Soumya, now a hell spawned leech
Embracing powers in her reach,
Decided prisons of the mind
Elicited her only bind.
A succubus now summed the length
Of who she was; her inner strength
For tasty vengeance had a price-
A serial in murder's vice,
And when the Lord of Hell took note,
It's wasn't long before the tote
And totem of her fancied style
Became his glowing, wicked smile.
"Soumya," Lucifer would say,
"Now run along! Those boys you slay
Are quite delightful in my fold.
Your methods, well, are bloody gold!"
And who was she to turn this down?
Revenge, avenge, it was her crown!
"The devil's due," she often said
And bottled blood; she loved to shred
The entrails of some hapless fool,
And sometimes she would even drool.
Enamored with a life of lust
At times could be a bumming bust,
A demon hidden underneath
The outward flesh; her garland wreath
For luring mortals in the trap
Until fatigued, they took a nap.
Unmitigated horror's cape
Surrounded as she bore the shape
Of who she was inside the skin.
She knew the devil wore a grin
For Lucifer, above them all,
Expected death to be a ball.
The wanton wreckage she would leave
Suppressed the notion some would grieve.
Or maybe not; most been were gags-
Cremated ash; assorted bags
Atop her head, a sweet disguise.
No graves to mourn their hollow eyes.
The lipstick shades around her mouth
Bespoke of somewhere deeper south.
This time, however, feeling guilt,
She wore it like her mother's quilt-
The one she used to use at night
Before her rape and loss of sight-
The way a mortal values life.
The only thing she loved- her knife-
Invited freedom from the pain.
Unfortunate, for Hell's domain
Explicitly endured the plot-
A torture field; a lake so hot
The demons even felt it's heat.
No, there was nothing safe or sweet
And as Soumya entered through
The gates, she longed for life's renew.
Surprised, she found a rose of black.
Accepting it, she saw a stack
Of petals urging her to move.
The sadness losing in a groove
Rekindled something she forgot-
The pang of joy; the tummy knot.
And as she went into a flame,
Her parting lips released a name:
"So, Lucifer, what have you done?"
The devil smirked, "Let's have some fun!"
Soumya, startled, took a chance-
Enveloped in his horned romance.
However, what he didn't know-
The succubus had seeds to grow
And as she used a special blade,
She stole his life; his body flayed.
"Now who's the Lord of Hell, you pig!
It's just another grave to dig.
No biggie; nah, I'll toss you in
And gorge myself on every sin.
You see, those men who took my youth
Devised their plans from you; my proof
A simple visit to the lake-
A soul in torment, no mistake,
Becomes an open book, you see.
So all of Hell belongs to me."
And as she sucked him, munching bone,
She sat atop his gleaming throne.
#horror  #poetry  #mystery  #whiteelephanttales 
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Challenge of the Week #55: Write a story of 200 words or more about a stranger. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $200. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by JamesMByers

Stranger Things ...

The stranger knocked upon the door,

A creaking, wooden throb,

And someone on the other side

Unlatched and turned the knob.

Uncertainty, a soft, "Hello,"

And, "May I use your phone?"

The person on the other side

Appeared to be alone.

An observation taken in,

No pictures on the wall.

He pointed somewhere down the way-

"Go on and make a call."

The thunder boomed; the stranger stalled

As wires were cut instead.

The gentleman began to sense

A subtle hint of dread.

A conversation thus ensued-

"So what has brought you out?

The rain has flooded everything,

And wiped away the drought.

Say, did you walk, or did you drive?

Why don't I take your coat?"

The stranger slowly moved his arms,

A sentimental gloat.

The water from the pouring skies

Enveloped cloth and shoe.

"Say, would you like a place to sleep?

I'll leave it up to you."

The person on the other side

Discarded his mistrust.

The stranger said his tire was flat,

And shed the muddy crust.

"The phone won't work," he also said.

"It could just be the storm.

Perhaps I will stay here tonight,

To keep me safe and warm."

The patron of the house agreed.

He hadn't seen the wire.

The chilly dampness prompted him

To quickly build a fire.

"You have a name? They call me Ed.

My wife was Verna Dean.

She passed away five years ago

And left me here as seen.

I guess it's really not so bad.

We never had a child.

I loved that Verna awful much,"

He said and sadly smiled.

"No property to divvy up.

The bank will get it all.

Say, do you want to try again

To go and make that call?"

The stranger grinned and left the flame

As to the phone he strode.

Within his pocket, knives and twine

In hiding seemed to goad.

A plan was formed- he'd kill the man;

Eviscerate him whole.

The twine would keep him firmly held;

The knife would steal his soul.

A lusty surge erupted hence;

A wicked bit of sin.

The stranger hadn't noticed yet

That someone else came in.

About the time a shadow fell,

He spun to meet a pan.

The room around him faded out

As eyes looked on a man.

A day or two it seemed had passed,

And when he woke all tied,

The stranger gazed upon old Ed

Who simply said, "You lied."

Reversing thoughts, the moment fled

And Ed said in a lean,

"No worries, stranger. None at all.

Hey, look, here's Verna Dean!"

He looked upon a wraith in rage;

It seemed his little lie

Combusted in a burning fit-

He didn't want to die.

So many victims in his life,

Some fifty bodies strewn.

And now he was the victim; now

The pain to him was known.

The stranger fought against the twine,

And noticed by his bed

The knife once in his pocket left

A trail of something red.

A bowl filled full of organs sat

As Verna poured some salt.

She exited with all of them.

"You know, this is your fault.

We demons wait for just the day

The guilty take the bait

And play with matches one last time-

I simply cannot wait

To taste the death within your flesh;

The venom in your gut.

So now you know the way they felt-

Hey, you've got quite a cut!"

The person on the other side

Removed his human skin-

Before his wife came back for more,

He offered with a grin:

"Say, stranger, is there anything

You'd like to say at all?"

I looked at all the blood and said,

"I'd like to make that call ... "

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Challenge of the Week #55: Write a story of 200 words or more about a stranger. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $200. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by JamesMByers
Stranger Things ...
The stranger knocked upon the door,
A creaking, wooden throb,
And someone on the other side
Unlatched and turned the knob.
Uncertainty, a soft, "Hello,"
And, "May I use your phone?"
The person on the other side
Appeared to be alone.
An observation taken in,
No pictures on the wall.
He pointed somewhere down the way-
"Go on and make a call."
The thunder boomed; the stranger stalled
As wires were cut instead.
The gentleman began to sense
A subtle hint of dread.
A conversation thus ensued-
"So what has brought you out?
The rain has flooded everything,
And wiped away the drought.
Say, did you walk, or did you drive?
Why don't I take your coat?"
The stranger slowly moved his arms,
A sentimental gloat.
The water from the pouring skies
Enveloped cloth and shoe.
"Say, would you like a place to sleep?
I'll leave it up to you."
The person on the other side
Discarded his mistrust.
The stranger said his tire was flat,
And shed the muddy crust.
"The phone won't work," he also said.
"It could just be the storm.
Perhaps I will stay here tonight,
To keep me safe and warm."
The patron of the house agreed.
He hadn't seen the wire.
The chilly dampness prompted him
To quickly build a fire.
"You have a name? They call me Ed.
My wife was Verna Dean.
She passed away five years ago
And left me here as seen.
I guess it's really not so bad.
We never had a child.
I loved that Verna awful much,"
He said and sadly smiled.
"No property to divvy up.
The bank will get it all.
Say, do you want to try again
To go and make that call?"
The stranger grinned and left the flame
As to the phone he strode.
Within his pocket, knives and twine
In hiding seemed to goad.
A plan was formed- he'd kill the man;
Eviscerate him whole.
The twine would keep him firmly held;
The knife would steal his soul.
A lusty surge erupted hence;
A wicked bit of sin.
The stranger hadn't noticed yet
That someone else came in.
About the time a shadow fell,
He spun to meet a pan.
The room around him faded out
As eyes looked on a man.
A day or two it seemed had passed,
And when he woke all tied,
The stranger gazed upon old Ed
Who simply said, "You lied."
Reversing thoughts, the moment fled
And Ed said in a lean,
"No worries, stranger. None at all.
Hey, look, here's Verna Dean!"
He looked upon a wraith in rage;
It seemed his little lie
Combusted in a burning fit-
He didn't want to die.
So many victims in his life,
Some fifty bodies strewn.
And now he was the victim; now
The pain to him was known.
The stranger fought against the twine,
And noticed by his bed
The knife once in his pocket left
A trail of something red.
A bowl filled full of organs sat
As Verna poured some salt.
She exited with all of them.
"You know, this is your fault.
We demons wait for just the day
The guilty take the bait
And play with matches one last time-
I simply cannot wait
To taste the death within your flesh;
The venom in your gut.
So now you know the way they felt-
Hey, you've got quite a cut!"
The person on the other side
Removed his human skin-
Before his wife came back for more,
He offered with a grin:
"Say, stranger, is there anything
You'd like to say at all?"
I looked at all the blood and said,
"I'd like to make that call ... "
#horror  #poetry  #prosechallenge  #Itslit  #getlit 
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Juice
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