Like leaves, green in morning spring,
Decayed flesh rises from watery ring,
The early bird catching the worm,
Maggots in eyes wriggle and squirm.
The dead tell no tales,
The Devil in the details,
Slashed throats tell no lies,
The Saint in the widow’s cries.
As darkness descends, it stalks the night,
Stars illuminating the victims plight,
Winter’s cold breath with gleaming steel,
Plunging through skin with religious zeal.
Been discovering and reading interesting horrors from authors Ramsey Campbell and Tom Piccirilli among others. Have you read something that inspired your writing?