Prints (horror poem)

On the walls finger prints

Stained and inked

purple, red, faded pink

Heart does sink

Through the rubble a rink

on the brink of collapse

A limb out of the rubble

My mind? Nah, it’s just rain

Ghosts be thy plenty, faceless, no names

Finger to lips, a face emerges from darkness!

In my face it had harked this, “Follow me unto the unknown, unseen, unbeen abyss.”

Cats, tall, a table of stone, splayed in the open

“Must be a dream, or I need proof, the latter, I’m hoping, I mean those creatures cut me wide open. I woke up and saw. White fur. human hand paw. Pickman’s portrait oh my dear god. I panicked they panicked, then I tried to fight and complied out of fear. Human-sized cats who can survive a bullet, knife and spear.

I wondered since then, what else I don’t we know here? What’s, huh? When?

Upper planes, spiritual fauna

There are planes beyond thy simple nirvana

The paw left a print

As a kid, I thought I was nuts

Whenever confusion or conflict occured, thus whacked the heavy-hand, parcel tongue slithering behind backs, hard and kinda scary to share certain facts with the plain, simple, common and bland; new information, weez, weez, wow, okay, you havin’ a heart attack?

Many a time did I see said cats

Piqued interests, prices paid

Somewhere along the road, almost many a mistake was made

The prints

Pawed and clawed, “oh god”



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