Flash Fiction, Fantasy, and Poetry
Come out from the briars / Where you hid in pain / Come back to the bowers / Where we danced and sang…
This is Lacillae’s lament for her betrothed. Though he is lost in darkness, she longs for him to return “To Light! To Life! To Love!” (“Spellbound,” line 21).
Beauty emblazoned in battle / Bladed, balanced, and brazen / The bane of curses blooms / Colored as the sakura…
Weary from the constraints of society, / Conformity, and its misaligned propriety, / Where truth is lost in the desperate chaos…
A myriad of necessities / Scatter like loose embers, / Float away from me, / As I gather them, / Slip through the gaps / Between my fingers, / For I have only two hands…
A many-legged, miniscule marauder, / A stealthy, silent soldier, / Feeds upon the decaying and the dead. / With a mouthful of rusty needles, / He fertilizes the forest floor, / Decorates his shiny, black, skeletal armor, / With mustard-yellow war paint, / Warns away the furry, bucktoothed giants, / And the feathered, beaked pilots, / Tempted to pierce and crack / The forest infantryman’s bony plates, / And receive a mouthful of cyanide…
A deceitful act encapsulates, / Taints, represses, and destroys / Innocent eyes and trusting souls / Color drains and greyscale paints / Across the once blissful dreamscape / That encouraged joyous naïveté…