The Bezoar

Friday has become the day I reblog some great post I find out there in the wordpress jungle of fiction and poetry. This blog has a lot of them, it was hard to choose. Enjoy.

Fitful, Fearful, Phantasmal

Was it delusion?

Few among us would argue that it wasn’t
But be assured, their ghastly footsteps came by a dozen

In that seclusion

With wooded life glaring at me on despairing knees.
Leaf unto limb they crumbled underfoot from behind me.

First they snickered

Not contempt nor trickery did the sepulchral spooks bring.
Though frightening, they were there to rid me of something.

Hungered they bickered

One hooded, gangly creature to another, then bargained
Selecting which to do the honors, in feral jargon

Whether to rip

A fatal gash into my belly or down through my throat.
My shivering heart beat my last rites and braced to be smote.

Through my lips

The chosen wraith plunged with his boney, necromanced hand
Into my esophagus, stomach, and gastric glands

Pulled a bezoar

Backwards, scraping slurry, silt, sludge, and scales past my teeth.
The twelve danced gleeful at the vile, oozing mass…

View original post 121 more words

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s