The Eye of Judgement #Poetry

When death comes for me

What shall I face?

An Angel with gorgeous wings, surrounded by white light?

A golden chariot, just for me?

Will I have the toll to pay to the Ferryman?

Or, will my soul just float through the ceiling rising forever higher

Seeing my loved ones, who have passed, holding hands out toward me?

Pearly gates towering as I face Saint Peter?

Anubis weighing my heart against a feather?

Or do all I deserve to be met with is a void?

Dark, black and forever uncomforting

Will it be a vibrant reality or a grainy delusion?

The question throughout ages

What will I see?

Facingdeath6

via Daily Prompt: Grainy

 

Toxicity #Poetry

An uncontrollable ache started in her mind

She tried to bandage the wound

Listening to music, reading and trying to write

It should be fixed in a jiffy

But this toxin was undeterred

Seeping around the corners of her mental blockade

Infecting every portion of her being

Consuming every inch of her soul

Painfully leaving her hollow

No antidote to be found

Her will to fight snatched away

She succumbed to the darkness

via Daily Prompt: Jiffy

Gaze #Poetry

A ragged face stared at her

The dull blue eyes glaring at her in judgement

Digging deep into her being

Finally resting the harsh gaze on her soul

Chills involuntarily quaked through her body

Making her body quiver

The wrinkled face mimicked her moments

Causing her heart to beat faster

With a trembling hand, she slowly moved towards the furrowed brow

She gasped in shock when her fingers met this sagging cheek

The surface was unnaturally cold

And confusingly smooth

She slowly ran her fingers down the flat surface and off the edge

She gasped when the reality hit

This wasn’t a stranger

This was her image she was viewing

She let out a wail

Tears began to stream down her face

IMG_20170810_222151

via Daily Prompt: Glaring

Life is but a Pluck #Shortstory

The brightly sparking laid silently on the maroon pillow. Even so it still called to her, only she could hear its faint strums willing her to strum its cords. Letting out a faint sigh she stood from her chair and glided over the marble flooring. She never appreciated the task Veles had assigned her, but he was the God of the Underworld and she was only conjured as a servant to him. He was too busy drinking and dinning with the other Gods to be bothered with the simple humans who had forgotten him.

She slowly waved her pale hand over the 4 strings of the Domra making sure not to touch them. The Domra melody came to life, willing her to play the tune of the underworld. The four strings on the instrument held different responsibilities of Veles.  The first string controlled earth, the second string controlled water, the third string controlled nature and the fourth string controlled the underworld.

Domrapluck

 

She picked up the Domra and felt the sensation of mortal life and death rush her body and mind. Sitting on the maroon pillow she crossed her legs as she held the instrument against her chest. Feelings of warmth, love and happiness started to warm her cold body, if she had a heart she was sure it would be pounding with joy. From her centuries of playing the song of the underworld she had begun to feel and understand the emotions that the mortals contained within their hearts and souls. This made her regret to play the instrument, but she had no choice.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and exhaled she began to pluck the strings, sending the tunes of life, death, growth and rebirth towards the mortal world.

 

via Daily Prompt: Pluck

Her Beautiful Soul- Sail #Poetry

C-Abrams-Ghost-Ship,large.1432694651

A somber express graced her face.

Sand slowly dripping, filling her lungs.

Her heart pounding as a call from war drums.

Wind gusts willing her weary body forward.

Hurricanes of thought blasting in her mind.

One word shouted in her mind:

Sail.

A new breath of life wrapping around her soul.

The fire of determination burned within her.

Water wrapping around her feet lifting her to new heights.

Reaching out she felt the warn, woods against her hands.

A grin slowly graced her lips.

Freedom.

ghost-ship