Hi, My name is Micah Park Biffle, I am the author of ' A Man's Traveled Heart,' I am a Veteran who found in understanding of my self through writing. I consider myself an architect of the imagination. Here you will see my creations come to life. My short stories, poems, my thoughts, and a little touch of my life. (I AM SLOWLY MOVING OF BLOGGER< FOR NEW STORIES PLEASE CLICK THE "MEDIUM" LINK TO THE LEFT)
Subscribe to this blog
Follow by Email
A Fairy-tale Lasting
A Fairy-tale Lasting
Her lips upon mine, our sultry passion leading me to the catacombs of bliss. Falling through the tendrils of this moment envelops my once shivering bones in a clothed warmth. Heating my core like coals beneath timber.
My soul flourishing to the wild crisp embrace of our skin. Our bodies entwined in a succulence of love. A raging affection seeps from our ribs like the sun dripping from the moon. We collide with such fervor that the stars become jealous.
Their white bodies boil in tones of crimson. The planets weep as they are left desolate to the blankness of space. They are cold, frigid, to the empty void as we align ourselves with such devotion.
We beam with brightness upon the darkest of tombs in the graves of our hearts. Our once dry grooves of existence now flood with phenomenal brilliance. We bloom like wild flowers at upom highest peak breaching through the haze of clouds.
Our fingers lacing like vines, our hearts bursting like fruits crushed beneath our jaws. We ooze with desire, the fondness to make our affection last. To string ourselves from constellation to constellation. Till we are weaved through each galaxy like veins through our flesh.
I collapse beneath her with vulnerability as I present her my soul. Grasping her with firmness between my hands. Her cheeks warm, budding with the glow of a rose. Her breath whisking upon my neck as if summer be her lungs.
As she delights in the masculinity of my grip as I relish her gentle and romantic wonder. Tuning our hearts, our bodies to our obsessive intensity.
Our eyes glaze in a radiance of love. The moon voyeurs through our open chambers but we are shamed not of our connection. Our devotion of our hearts, we are companions, lovers of the forever. A fairy tale come true.
Our pages are written from the blood of our love. Our hearts will race with emotion of our love till we are but brittle bones decaying to the soils of earth. Even then we shall lay side by side in silence as our story rests in the etching our stones.
Let us never grow tired of our presence. Let us venture to wild places beyond our home. Let us be the reflection of what many seek. Let lust never be our want, but change be our path. Let us not speak only of our bodies but of the deeper.
The soul, the mind, the intelligence of both. Let us fall, to the ever deepening of our love.
To those that are depressed, I bring you these words and hope they fill the belly of your soul and nourish your heart,
Today, may be tougher than the former or maybe not. Maybe, today is like any other day, you struggling to remove yourself from your bed is but a wishful feat and nothing more. As you are coiled in the monotony of sadness that seeps from you like foul breath; from a desperate evening of melancholy. Maybe, the mere action to place a smile upon your face may feel like lifting the world from your chest.
I know these feelings well, I know them as well as I know the color of my eyes. I know when even a sunrise is no more joyful than a slaved day at work. When the world is pressing you into the unimaginable sinking of despair.
Where the air is thin but anxious thoughts a rabid. Where colors fade and all you see is grey and the whispers of death sound so sweet. Maybe you have fallen much further than I, where the act of infliction's don't jus…
A Beast Among the Flames
Lighting strikes the open plains setting the dry grass ablaze. Fires start to rise from the hill tops in the distance like signals. I can feel the heat from the flames that blaze only yards from me. The sweet scent of wet grass resonates against the smell of burning earth.
Smoke melds with the dark clouds above, forming a fondness for each other. I can feel my chest rising with heavy breaths as I prepare my mind. This is either the end or a start to another day. Kneeling on one knee I press myself up and stand.
I look around me as the world before me looks as if hell is bursting from earth. In the chaos I find serenity, for I am built for this, trained for this.
I finished my indulgence of my surroundings and pull my sword from the ground.
I raise it with my right hand pulling it near my chest. The point of my blade stands five inches above my head. I close my eyes and start to rhythmically pound the armor of my chest with my other hand.
"Let your umbrella unfold, dance beneath the rain when others won't shelter you with the echoes of love my dear." Her mother said as she kissed her upon the forehead.
Sophia looking up at her mother smiles as she holds her pink umbrella above her head. Her mother, raising up from the kiss takes Sophia by the hand and they begin to walk. Sophia, only five and her father off on a business trip, her mother becomes lonely.
And so they walk, they walk through evenings, mornings, dusk's and dawns. Watching the graceful colors of sunsets and sunrises. Sophia's mother teach's her to admire the colors before them. Not just the wonderful vibrant colors, but also the dull. The gloomy streaks of darkness.
For everything has a purpose in this world. From the thunder storms to clear skies. Sophia, holding her mother's hands as they walk through the rain looks and up and asks, "Mother, why do you cry? Do the colors of this clouded night …