A pact, birthed in home-
Goblin’s wolf, red hued white
Strands clash divides unleashed surmise
Snips of flesh, flooded flaps,
Pressed upon stranger’s touch
Textured, both-errs, where tethered claw disengages past
Change in sky, blue to black
A piercing aura, frosting pine,
Distracts the tint of orange set aback
A growth emerged, where paths mingle
And a new skin forms in tone-
A layered coat atop the self’s repressive ghost
A gathering of clans-infields of pine
Tradition bears the awaken bell-
As screams arise from guttural tombs
Gullets blanket dressed in starvation
Nervous strands a prickled lift
As pungency is detected nigh
Blessed fangs, draped in hues
What once is fresh as red
Eventually grows pink in stain
Doused in dampened soil
Sunken claws at peace in moistened land
Head cricked-jaw bent-eyes high
The swarming sense of frothing glands
Shuttered sweat shimmers jade
Composites of: adrenalin and envy
Soon the circle forms,
Sharpest blades posture compass points
As youth and old aide in fight
The enemy
Descends
In its surround
And then incisors flare,
The cast of ruby alive afloat
Confirms the predator knew not the game it sought
Masks covered in parts unknown
Bone shards shiver, fragmented fie
Rites of passage fade now the scars
Fostered three, taken to
Souls once rigid bend their arms, acceptingly
All tales once told-beneath silk cloth linen sheets-
Horror painted accurately- yet those yarns disregarded
The bond in blood, bound by oaths never said- focal points
Always been- one and one alone- family fights for family- where slain lay- another weeps, and cherishes how they left, in order for them to fly.
Swollen images- once viewed on horror nights
No longer engulf terror into me, instead
I see a picture of beautiful harmony.
Blood is in everything.
When I started this piece I had the grand design of anagrams in mind. The first few stanzas, highlighted in bold, are indicative of the direction I had hoped for. Yet, weaving two separate tales in one, trying to find the words that would be correct for both, never spoke their voices to my ears. If they did I certainly didn’t hear them. The research could have been done, but I have to say I like what came out in the original stance’s place. I was able to harness the idea I had in mind, as the underlying story I was initially shooting for, which I suppose is the one that wanted to be told. The other, well, perhaps another day.
