Challenge
Challenge of the Month XXXIX
Write a short poem about your own private Hell. The tortured who reigns gets 100 big ones. Winner will be picked by Prose. Go.
Complete
There were no screams
and all was silent
Pulsing movement of
a million heartbeats
vibrating
and echoing and
repeating
Hands reaching out
grabbing my skin
peeling it off my flesh
and the taste of
sweetened bone
exposed
on the ceiling of my mouth
No darkness
only light
as the flaming white surrounding
stung all
picking at me
stripping me
of all humanness
Insanity infected my mind
a smile painted across my face
mixed with
absolute horror
realizing that this
was the place that I would stay
forever
I am
complete.
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