Bones, bones, bones, Continue reading “Song of Kings”
From the dark that separated the lava’s dim light and myself. Rose up, from the burning earth. A tan color, singed at the edges, that poked through the folds of red, glowing earth. It rose steadily, meaningfully. It’s sockets were empty, dark. I could feel death seeping from them. Hades itself spilling from the empty holes.
The bone dragon.
On Halloween, I met someone special.
I met a skeleton. Continue reading “Mournful Bones”
It wasn’t raining. Wasn’t night. The sun was shining through the window, beaming through the curtains to bring him the slightest ounce of light.
He didn’t want it.
He had no right.
A monster, a beast. The blood stained his house, beckoned at every door. He’d hunted, and he’d trapped, and he’d ripped them to shreds. Threw out their peace to bring favor for their dead.
The light was not his. Certainly, he had no right.
He picked up his pen, squinting at the sun. The thoughts haunting him, the terror of night.
And with his thoughts swirling, the dead rising in their call.
He began to write:
Journal entry 74, book 1189.
More than likely, this is my last entry. I hope to survive this ordeal, but I don’t believe I will.
If God is true, and just, and mighty, then I will not.
If God is truly mighty, then surely:
I must die. Continue reading “Bone Reckoning”
Stumbling across things in the woods is what I live for. What I’d die for. There’s so much out there, just waiting to be found.
I was still young at the time. Young enough that I didn’t know.
But now I do.
Some things aren’t meant to be found. Continue reading “Bone Loss”
Bones ward off evil. That’s what my grandfather used to say. They were used by witches, yes, but they were first things of beauty. Of life, and of death. An unbreakable circle of inevitability. Bones craft the world, and the world is crafted around its bones. Circular reasoning? Yes. But, grandfather always believed that was the way of the world. Things that go around come around. Everything comes full circle in the end. A life spent on a tilt-a-whirl.
Bones are required for life. And bones are required for death. A bone is vital to a creature. Bones are vital to all creatures.
There are more than enough bones in the world.
More than enough.
I think it’s time I have some for myself. Continue reading “Speaking Bones”