Evil – Deuxiemepeau Poetry by Damien B. Donnelly

SHORT STORIES OF FEAR; THE MONSTER IN THE MAN

Was he not tied and turned on the tide, was there not light and dark by his side, though the morning’s sun rose as his bride twas the black of the moon at night that found stride. Was he not washed and worn on the waves, was he not cracked like the sea cuts […]

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HOW MANY LETTERS DOES IT TAKE TO SPELL OUT ENOUGH?

And as they bit into the apple they lost their right to the garden. Hands are tipped now with guns, now, instead of gold, instead of gloves. Rage is the new ricochet where once it was rock and roll; bullets are the new Beatles. Facebook has alerts, now, to say you’re alive, now, after, […]

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CURSED

Blackened hands hardened over the heart exposed, expunged, red roses rubbed into ruins, ‘We are no more than the dust we leave after death,’ a curse forgotten, a force too rooted to be released. Black heart burnt to broken, banished to the ashes of her aftermath and he cannot cry, but he can crack, […]

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WALLS

We build walls and barricades to hide from our fears of what might be outside. We build walls and barricades and are left trapped with the evil within. All words by Damien B. Donnelly Based on a poetry prompt from #Poetheme

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BETWEEN THE PANES

Before the #NaPoWriMo kicks in with its 30 days of 30 new poems, (who is taking part?) here is a little chilling tale of ghostly goings on between the window panes… Between the Panes A short story The wife. I am a wife. I am a mother. There is a brown house with a […]

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FEATHERS IN FLIGHT

Falling from new lows cawing and flapping through clouds of chaos through crowds clambering at connections now carelessly closed Doves let fly the doves open the columbarium souls have the right to flee the broken have the right to be free from this folly Flapping with frail feathers the eagle’s eating itself and the […]

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THE BLIND ASSASSIN

A Short Horror Story. I don’t remember what happened before, no clue as to who I was, what I was, but afterwards, everything that happened afterwards is a completely different story, because when you open your eyes after death, you discover a whole other way of living. Tick tock, tick tock. […]