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#psychoses
shuffling feet recede with the sinking heat shadow chanters possess the street sidewalk dancers work their song the mind a clenched fist pounding a one beat drum a hustle in lunacy chasing crank and doom sound surrounds a fool that is what you hear the constant humm lost in the ear exhales as a kindle, leads a rumble the bellow of a beast howling thunder the sound so pleasing crawls under the skin begins to breath becomes the wind jacked up spread thin spinning shards of speed believing all the joy in greed sabotage of self redeem a play to crash and fiend infringes the sound of terror louder than an ocean roars misery always begs more hand on a knife steady work in a glisten fury breathes bending twisted thrashing fragile decline slashing sublime carving within the lines seeking a hollow spine nothing seen to intervene struck hard to a mad core falling through every door landing in the sleep of dreams face in a pillow held to the floor nothing left to bargain suffocation frees a demon leaves a human being Terry D’Arcy-Ryan
0
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 12:08 PM UTC
SheerTerror
CRANK and DOOM
shuffling feet recede with the sinking heat shadow chanters possess the street sidewalk dancers work their song the mind a clenched fist pounding a one beat drum a hustle in lunacy chasing crank and doom sound surrounds a fool that is what you hear the constant humm lost in the ear exhales as a kindle, leads a rumble the bellow of a beast howling thunder the sound so pleasing crawls under the skin begins to breath becomes the wind jacked up spread thin spinning shards of speed believing all the joy in greed sabotage of self redeem a play to crash and fiend infringes the sound of terror louder than an ocean roars misery always begs more hand on a knife steady work in a glisten fury breathes bending twisted thrashing fragile decline slashing sublime carving within the lines seeking a hollow spine nothing seen to intervene struck hard to a mad core falling through every door landing in the sleep of dreams face in a pillow held to the floor nothing left to bargain suffocation frees a demon leaves a human being Terry D’Arcy-Ryan
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42
in the stygian depths of a nightmare, I embarked on a journey cloaked in dread, where the air was thick with the foul stench of decay. each step I took sent ripples through the muck, and my very existence seemed a grotesque parody of life. what swamp did you rise from? a voice, twisted with malice, echoed in my mind. naked and shivering I wandered through this forsaken wasteland, my footsteps punctuted by the sickening squelch of mud, as if the very earth sought to devour me. ogres and trolls, grotesque - lusus naturae, lurked in the shadows. their eyes glowed with malevolence, their teeth sharp as blades. they whispered vile secrets, their voices like the hiss of serpents in the darkness. I could feel their gaze upon me, their grotesque fingers reaching out, threatening to pull me into their lair. the air was thick with the rancid odour of rotting flesh and stagnant water. I could taste the fetid blood in the air, like copper on my tongue, and it clung to my skin like a greasy curse. it mingled with the noxious fumes of excrement and gas, an unholy cocktail that seared my nostrils and made me retch. as I journeyed deeper into this living nightmare, the world around me twisted and contorted. the very ground seemed to writhe and groan, and I could feel it clawing at me, trying to pull me down into its loathsome embrace. the grisly landscape stretched on and on, an unending expanse of horror and despair. I knew not if there was an end to this wretched place, or if I would forever be trapped in this chilling realm. my nakedness and vulnerability were a cruel joke, a reminder of my frailty in the face of such unrelenting darkness. what swamp did you rise from? the voice echoed once more, and I could only shudder, for the answer lay in the depths of my own soul, a reflection of the excruciation that surrounded me.
0
Oct 26, 2023
Oct 26, 2023 at 9:41 AM UTC
alietc_
the collected psychoses #16
in the stygian depths of a nightmare, I embarked on a journey cloaked in dread, where the air was thick with the foul stench of decay. each step I took sent ripples through the muck, and my very existence seemed a grotesque parody of life. what swamp did you rise from? a voice, twisted with malice, echoed in my mind. naked and shivering I wandered through this forsaken wasteland, my footsteps punctuted by the sickening squelch of mud, as if the very earth sought to devour me. ogres and trolls, grotesque - lusus naturae, lurked in the shadows. their eyes glowed with malevolence, their teeth sharp as blades. they whispered vile secrets, their voices like the hiss of serpents in the darkness. I could feel their gaze upon me, their grotesque fingers reaching out, threatening to pull me into their lair. the air was thick with the rancid odour of rotting flesh and stagnant water. I could taste the fetid blood in the air, like copper on my tongue, and it clung to my skin like a greasy curse. it mingled with the noxious fumes of excrement and gas, an unholy cocktail that seared my nostrils and made me retch. as I journeyed deeper into this living nightmare, the world around me twisted and contorted. the very ground seemed to writhe and groan, and I could feel it clawing at me, trying to pull me down into its loathsome embrace. the grisly landscape stretched on and on, an unending expanse of horror and despair. I knew not if there was an end to this wretched place, or if I would forever be trapped in this chilling realm. my nakedness and vulnerability were a cruel joke, a reminder of my frailty in the face of such unrelenting darkness. what swamp did you rise from? the voice echoed once more, and I could only shudder, for the answer lay in the depths of my own soul, a reflection of the excruciation that surrounded me.
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