Micah Park Biffle

   A Samurai's Purpose  The world is flooding and none can find shelter. The Titans of Ezerek have breached their cells of punishment. They, or someone has helped them break the magical barrier that has kept them from this world.   Their red eyes beam like far off lasers seeking their target. A darkness has seeped from their chambers and shrouds them in view. They stand at the heights of the tallest buildings. They are destruction and know of no other way.   They are spawns of hell that were born in the battle of who will obtain earth, good or evil? Who ever won the battle is allowed a Ten-thousand year reign without any outside resistance greater than that born of the devils spit or born of heavens breath.   Small demons and other small creatures are granted pasture upon earth as good reigns. But they are not allowed to infest any humans unless they are welcomed. So they must rely on tricks to build their presence. But now, either the devil hi...

   The Ugly Place   The trees are thick with tar, dripping from the smoldering breath of the crimson sun. The heat swells with moist humidity. Vapors of hot breath paste to the flesh like glue. While hands embrace feebly to tattered umbrellas to keep refuge from the goo of the lonely trees.  This ugly and forsaken place be the lands of Hollow Graves. An empty place where many lay but walk bare with nothing to say. Their lips crusted of pain, hydration is far from the soul. No rivers flow with water, only the blood of the dead.  The mountains bare no snow, only the flesh of those of womb. The sacrifices of the living, those who took what was not theirs. Snuffing the gift they were bestowed. Searching for a lasting escape from sufferings of the life. Only to find themselves torn with each repeating day.  Their flesh kissed by the mending lips of demons. Only to scream out to repent as the devils sly lips turn sharp. Lacerating the innocent skin, t...

  Ascending Death    With fiery eyes I wake, aching bones and a creaking soul. A lonely moment but I breathe. I hear the voices, they speak. Their soft wisps of conclusion to who I should be. To what I should do. They trample about my head like beasts through jungles.   And in this lonely moment I rage to fight them though my heart be weak. Though the thunderous roars of my voice have become soft, I still stand. I climb this mountain though the plunge could be deadly. These quivering bones are not my enemy.  This drowning heart is not my weakness and this feverish mind is not mine. It has been taken and I shall reclaim it. I have traveled these forsaken roads long enough and my eyes can see. They burn the frozen herds of devils.  Their eyes following like eyes of cats. Keeping watch as I stumble through thickets, sands, glaciers, and worlds of ghastly pain. But I burn through their cold stare with fervor as the taste of life dangles at my tongue....

   An Artist's Touch    How lovely she be, her hair curling beneath her blossoming hat. The gentle kempt design of each strain. The dark glow against the morning sun as her dark hair rests upon her shoulders. Dangling like threads of silk. Divine I say, absolutely divine.   Her eyes, their complexion spill with the delicacy of the soul. Spilling like colors of the morning sun against a glistening sea. I can feel her presence even when we are distant in stare. Their vibrant collection of life, how much she has lived in such little space, such short time.   My brush, carefully stroking against the canvass with passion. Allowing her existence to become the reality of this art. Her art, her, she is everything. How wild her curves play against the contrast of this world. Nature bares much, but there is no competition to be had.  For even nature shows she'd be foolish to rival such beauty. Her skin, smooth as the melting light from an evening mo...

 A Rebirth   It all went to hell, everything, everything fell apart. Like revelations everything burned, swept up in an orange fiery haze. Lungs choked, emotions rampant. My devils and demons collided, the oceans ran dry and my heart expelled from my chest through my throat.   I could feel nothing any more but the remorse of my decisions. The lack luster I had put forth in my life was my all consuming inevitability of my end. I thought for sure I would rise through my ranks but I was foolish to my touch.  I ignored signs and took pity upon myself. Now I am stand in blood as the resonating regrets of my life spill from pale mouths like Greek gods born of jealousy or payment. Tit for tat and I cannot cry, I cannot weep.  The heat of these flames hold me arid, barren to the emotions I should have. But the chaos before me has taken all order, the snake has devoured itself and Pandora cannot be shut. I turned the key the moment I let myself feel sorry. ...

A Traitor Among Gods  The sky is ripe with darkness. Thunder bellows from the heavens and lightening strikes from the eyes of the gods. Petrus stands with wounds upon his flesh, his lungs weak from exhaustion. He has been inflicted by the anger of  the gods.  They fear his resistance to obey. Petrus has never been a man of obedience. His own father was put in his place by Petrus. He was beaten as a child and his mother a harlot of the city streets. He was an outcast of his own world.  Petrus grew with resentment for authority. Most likely birthed by the actions of his father. His heart carried an aura of darkness. Held in the arms of green greed. He speaks with assertive boasts of wild assumptions.  He walks in shadows of those who treat him poorly. Waiting to murder their very existence and rid them from this world. Petrus rages with power, with a power that has slowly consumed his once innocent heart.   He now is a bitter man of the gods. Pe...

The Angels Have not Left  The sun sets high, it's midday and the kingdom of Erlise is under attack by Herald. Herald is the neighboring king. A king of greed and power, his magic surpasses most. They say he sold his soul to the devil for the power he wields.  His magic is dark, it is fueled by anger and the souls of the damned. His eyes as red as the blood that pumps beneath flesh. He wears a cloak of black, draped over armor built by the hands of demons. His sword, designed in constriction to grow in height.  He wields such a blade with ferocity and rage. As the sun sits high Herald walks the towering steps to the entrance of Erlise. The guards, mere mortals, some bear magic, magic that is cast by word. But most mortals cannot reach beyond the ability to cast a fireball.  They wear armor of silver coated in spells to resist magic. But as they rush to strike down Herald from where he stands. Their armor is capable of no resistance. He slaughters them whe...

Are we  of God and Devil?  What if, we are but pieces of god? Our soul be of the heavens and our flesh be of hell. What if we are but pawns of opposition to each side? In constant struggle to appease them. Each wanting us, all of us.  The heavens cheering for our soul and hell cheering for our flesh. Hell, waiting with mouths wide with teeth sharpened and coals burning. Waiting to make us an army of its devout creatures of temptation, greed, jealousy and hate.  As heaven weeps for us in our faults and prays we lead with our soul. Waiting for us to consume the waters of our heart. Hoping we choose wings over the walking of our feet.  What if, in our death, whichever side we acted more generously upon, we are given to that which we devoured more? What if, in death our souls can rise to heaven or become tied to our flesh forever? Forever chained to the misery of agony of pain as we are stretched from limb to limb in the pleasures of the devil.  W...

In The Darkness I Fell   The demon outstretched its hand. I could feel the heat of misery swell from its body as he peered from the darkness. My pale skin glowed in comparison to the depth of this darkness. I could feel my resentment in my blood boil.  As the demon held out its hand, I felt a moment of compassion for myself. For in that moment someone or rather, something else was willing to lend me their hand. As I reached out with my frail limb against my burdensome agony. I felt the heat in the darkness rise, I began to hear many voices.   It felt as if a crowd had gathered to watch and spoke in hush tones as not to disturb. As if waiting for the climax of story but are all to eager for the end. As these voices built, I became disturbed in the image of my pathetic state.  I was cold, and the heat of the darkness was comforting my lonely heart. The more I became disturbed in myself, the louder the voices became. In my hysteria of emotio...

I am No Doctor of Your Soul I don't see any end to this unexcited down pour of your so called tears of misery. For if I remember correctly you spoke of change. Yet here you are, hanging on the tail of my coat. Begging me to comfort your tender soul. Knowing well of what my heart feels of you. What sickly ego you must bear, willing to reach to me in your time of need. Though this be a familiar need, with a familiar problem. A problem I cannot console even if you handed me the key. No, I do not wish to ignore you, but it must be done. For your soul is not the only soul between us. Mine stretches with both arms. Expanding in the desire to be a part of yours. But I have grown to know this is a fools errand. It cannot be done, for your soul reaches to no one. I now hear the fiddle that plays from the roof of your heart, and I hear the rhythm of the devil flows from it. I don't wish to condemn you to your misery, but it seems you are not exhausted of it. I fear it has beco...

Babylon Thought  Build, build, let us touch the heavens where god seeks to hold us. Let us structure each brick to compose the steps to the heavens. Bear no mind to the agony at which it costs, life is part of the sacrifice. Let us climb to the clouds and past the stars; where we shall see the eyes of it all. Do not be weary in the work, for this is our destiny. Our true reasoning of our manifestation, were are not of these soils. Nor do we wish to dwell upon them anymore more. The beauty here has become tedious and shallow. Nothing new sprouts from these false accolades of nature. The trees bear no new fruits, the sky brings no new heights and the earth springs with no new mountains. We are not meant to live in this haze of existence. Fending through meager flesh to keep our souls pulsating. We have grown bored of the frail design of our thoughts, we have ceased expansion in creation an idea. This be our only hope, we must climb. Burden your body with stone so that ...

Rock Bottom It's a gory scene to be at the bottom, where the rocks settle and the beast sleeps. Few come out alive, the viscous scent of misery spawns with every ripple that passes over. Creatures with eyes of ghostly red peer through the bleakness as they search in feast of the feeble. Searching out malnourished minds and bitter hearts. Pumping deceitful thoughts as the pale skin of the wretched whom have fallen to the beasts scream. Shrieking in agony to strike fear in those who have newly fallen. Creating a toxic echo that corrodes those who carry dense doubt. Worming their tongues in the ears of their victims as the beast gnaws upon their feet. Weakening their balance, creating a limbless critter to emulate its voice. It seeds into the mind of the terrified, blending with the suffering they posses. They cry out but few fight back. They become hollow shells that suffice as a bowl for the beast to place its meal; and with each meal. The beast grows and the victim bec...

Make Not a Decomposing Heart Hearts will come and hearts will go, some will be welcoming. Some will be harsh, plucking yours as if a cherry; feasting upon it for the delight of their own appetite. Savoring the nectar that flows upon their lips like a wine cast from the ages. But yours shall always stay, and it may harden through the harsh travels ahead. Maybe it already has. Maybe it weighs of stone and beats of tar. But it is your heart, and no others can understand it. You must learn to preach to it, spill your pain to the vastness before you. Write it upon the walls of your ribs. Allowing no wounds to fester, be not a melancholic wanderer. Ending dead in actions of others, as if a counter part of Poe. Life is no downward slop. It is a path of treacherous and loving things. It will bleed you dry if you let it. It will bury you beneath the soils of earth before you even die. It can cause disdain upon those around you, though you be the sickness that ill's you. But lif...

A Lie of Weakness There, at the edge of the dirt road upon this solitary night; she stood, silent, gazing toward my vacant existence. She stood beneath a willow tree, that held itself at the foot of the river. And there, our eyes met with fervor. Hers, shimmered like the lighting of the moon, cold, alone, but mesmerizing. And as I stared, I was drawn, like that of new found doe to its mother. I craved her like the succulence of fruit. I felt her presence pull me like gravity, waving me in, towing me out, like that of an evening tide. And as I approached, I felt this brisk summer night, begin to caress me with warmth. A dry warmth I should say, a warmth, I had never felt before. With each approaching step I became deeply enthralled in this curiosity of what forges such heat, on such a raw bliss-less twilight.  And as I loomed my hollowed bones toward her, the warmth began to rise. Sweat seeped from my brow, but I pay it no mind. For it deserved no regard of mine, f...

The Violation of Innocence  She is held in a limbo, a purgatory, a Ferris wheel she is forbidden to exit. A repeating scenario ensnares her eyes with shadowed glimpse of a figured torn from its body. A rope dangles in the flashing of a storm. Her window clatters against the violence of the wind. Her throat tense in fear, her eyes wide in panic. She feels her limbs become dull, as if her bones are becoming brittle to the taxing taxation of uprooted love. Her heart, taken from the soil of her once opulent soul. She feels herself drift like a ghost to the forgotten pages of dying memories. Her hands hold to nothing as she stares with gorged eyes of sorrow. Pale is the moon, as it waltz with the cavernous clouds of thunder.  And as she pours herself to the withered aches of her heart. She scrapes her thoughts from the addictive pleasures of what will be seized. As she is tortured in thought of what she restrained from  experiencing. She writes herself upon ...

A Corruption Of Wealth  And as your ivory tower grows like twisted weeds from hardened grounds, you become distant. Your tongue holds disdain for the world below. The clouds barely cling to the walls of your tower. You hold an outrageous, pretentious, and noxious view of what walks at the foot of the earth. Your teeth have become stained in hollow truths, growing your wealth like the greed of a vile king. Filling your belly beside the utmost corrupt. Placing yourself as if you are god, billions you pour into your designs as you place a false crown upon your head. Plotting with devious intentions to will thpeople to your whim. Daunting becomes your fantasy of life, your appetite, insatiable.  You laugh as the feeble ones underneath plead for a better existence. But you lack any sympathy, you have crowded your soul in power, in riches. And so many are blind as you steer the powers that be. For you hide well behind your treasures of your horrid opulence. For few know...