death

Beauty in Death

Church bells echo with
The song of the angels.
A mournful melody of tears
Hangs heavy on the breeze.
The bereaved choke on sobs,
Gasping for lighter air.
The weight of their burden
Sinks into my soul.
My heart seeks a reprieve
From the anguish of reality.
My eyes pursue a defense
For the assault on my ears.
Empty outstretched arms
Eagerly offer me comfort.
In the embrace of a stranger
The beauty in death emerges.
Love for the departed
Brings unity to the masses.
Blind no more are they
To the fragility of life.
Sunlight penetrates
Panes of stained glass
Casting color onto
The sea of obsidian.
Whispers of memories
Draw wistful smiles.
Unfamiliar hands,
Connected only by loss,
Clasp tightly in a show
Of harmony and peace.
Retrained by my sight
My ears adjust to the sound,
And now I hear hope
For a new day to come.

Photography: http://fav.me/d8zcra3

Return to Home

Frankenguitar

Frankenguitar should not have survived that fall. His neck was hopelessly broken. He was dead, gone. His dismembered head dangled by only slackened strings. Dark magic and wood glue revived Frankenguitar, but his injuries left him disfigured. He became a recluse, seeking solace somewhere deep in a Michigan forest. The locals there say, if you burn a campfire late enough, Frankenguitar will serenade you in the dark.

 

 

Photography: http://fav.me/d8xb201

 

 

Return to Home

The Butcher

Colorblind, undiscerning, he sees not love, he sees not hate.
In the end he’ll collect us all, he does not discriminate.
Sinners, saints, rich or poor, men without conscience, she who atones,
He butchers paupers and peasants and harvests kings from their thrones.
Worldly possessions be damned. He is not enticed by raw lust.
He is incorruptible, methodical, moral and just.
There is nothing certain in this world, but in Death we can trust.
He anticipates impartially our expiration date.
We are identical in his eyes, merely flesh upon bone.
Our destiny is equal, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

 

 

Return to Home

Afterlife Among the Damned

Expecting he would burn in hell,
He befriended Satan and
They knew each other well.

He prepared for the final bell,
Afterlife among the damned,
Expecting he would burn in hell.

Bamboozled by Diablo’s spell,
He thought he was in command.
They knew each other well.

On the day his death befell
The hereafter didn’t go as planned.
Expecting he would burn in hell,

He was promptly placed in a cell
At Lucifer’s demand.
They knew each other well.

Never would some ne’er-do-well
Serve as his majesty’s hand.
Expecting he would burn in hell,
They knew each other well.

 

 

Photography: http://fav.me/d8xeo26

 

 

Return to Home

Closure

Nick knew she wasn’t coming after 20 minutes, but still waited a full hour. What choice did he have? He endured the hassle of driving into the city. His 2 hour journey took closer to 3 hours. Some simpleton on a cell phone stepped into oncoming traffic just blocks away from his destination. Emergency personnel had to detour traffic around the entire area while they dealt with the carnage. That slight deviation from his printed directions was enough to have him driving aimlessly lost for an hour. He was thankful he had the foresight to leave the house early. Otherwise, he might have kept her waiting.

Funny how things can change in 60 minutes. She made a complete fool of him. It was Emma who had insisted that they meet in person. He was still completely content with their relationship exactly the way it was. It was thrilling to hear the laptop ring out with the sound of a new message. The online conversations that ensued could go on for hours. She had a such a beautiful way with words. She made him laugh too. Why did she have to mess with perfection?

He paid for the coffee he consumed while he pathetically waited, then exited the cafe. The dark clouds that loomed overhead let out a roar and spilled their contents. Mammoth drops of rain soaked him as he sprinted for his car. At least the accident scene was clear. He could get the hell out of there unimpeded.

Soggy and pissed, Nick made his way home. He didn’t even bother to change before he sat in front of his computer and fired off a message to Emma.

“I waited for an hour, then got stuck in the rain, Emma. You could have called.”

He waited, refreshing his screen every few seconds, becoming more despondent each time his effort proved fruitless. Dispirited, Nick logged off and dragged himself upstairs to shower and change. It was morning before he had the nerve to check his messages again. Still nothing.

“Did you drag me to the city just to break it off? What happened? Decide it was easier to just stop talking to me entirely?”

All day Nick tried, in vain, to forget about being so unceremoniously dismissed. However, he required closure. Out of desperation, he attempted one last message.

“I didn’t know you had the capacity to be so cruel, Emma. I love you, truly and deeply. I was going to tell you at the cafe. I honestly believed that you felt the same. If that has changed, please, I’m begging you, just tell me.”

He fell asleep at his keyboard that night, waiting for Emma to admit she’d made a mistake and confess that she loved him too.

During the 2 days that followed, Nick’s heartache became anger. He was convinced that she intended to end their relationship that day in the city but got cold feet and blew him off instead. By the 3rd day, when a message from Emma finally did arrive, he was too furious to acknowledge it.

Nick selected the message, held down the Shift key, and pressed Delete. He had his closure. He got to give sweet Emma a dose of her own medicine.

Nick never did learn what the contents of that unread message explained…

“Dearest Nick, You don’t know me, but I’ve just recently learned that you do know my sister. Unfortunately I have terrible news. I am sorry to tell you this way. Emma was struck by a vehicle last week and was killed in the accident. I am so sorry that you were not contacted sooner, but the police kept her phone for their investigation. According to them, she was drafting the following message to you when the accident occurred,

I am so excited to see you, touch you, hold you, kiss you. I want to look you in the eyes when I tell you how I feel. I’m almost to the cafe already, I think I’m over an hour early. I’m that eager to begin our next chapter, my darling. Hurry and get here Nick, I…’

 

Return to Short Stories

Return to Home