Micah Park Biffle

    A Round Table Greed   I have found myself as mad as the Tell-Tale Heart. I see them and I want to silence their grovelling. Their incessant need to banter about their virtuous tongues. How mighty they talk as they sip the most expensive brandy in the city.   How well their words be versed from their academic life. S  compelling, so persuasive you just might believe them. But I see it, I see their greedy eyes dart to each to others extravagance. Each talking up themselves up like children.   Oh how trivial all this be. How dull their senses must be. Their egos inflate with each sip of brandy as their character loosens like a whore through out the night. I wish to deal great death to them, maybe poison their drinks or.....or cut out their hearts one by one forcing each to watch.   Ha, how glorious it would be, to feel their warm hearts die in the grip of my hand as the blade  lay flush upon their now silent chests. Oh, but if I be th...

   A Ruler by Fear Deep organs pour over the cold mid afternoon in ceremony of new rule, their maestros arched over keys with crooked backs. The clouds are heavy and winds howl as she takes up her crown. Her mind digests the scenery of her new found rule over the kingdom. Her eyes judge with passing malice as she looks to her people.   Her heart beats no more of subtle hints of power as she no longer needs to bare false innocence of a woman. She smiles as she relishes in the new found glory of command. Her loyal devotees of the priest hood stand beside her. Cloaks draped, faces hidden, but their dull grinning teeth find way from their shrouded presence.   Crimson flags hang with authority as she stands before them with her new shimmering crown. Three spikes of gold stand erect toward the sky upon the crown. The middle stands the highest with an eye of silver melded in the middle. The accompanied pair are evenly separated from the center. Both standing short...

  A Murder over Invention  Samuel Thride is a man of secrecy. His presence, when among him, is quite audacious. What he does for a living no one knows. He lives atop Manor Hill, where his mansion sits highest above the neighboring homes.   Many have met him, but they are often met with reservation, rudeness some say, or complete denial of their existence. Some say he is this way because he thinks too highly of himself and no other deserves his attention. While others think he is malnourished in the department of social interaction. Some even believe he may be so intelligent, he has a tough time explaining his joys of possibly complex theories, rather, dumbing them down.   They say he would much rather talk of the world, its history, science, math, and any theories that tie into these categories. He is a tall slender man with disheveled hair that is increasingly thinning by the passing years.   His eyes swaddled in a dark complexion as rest does ...

A Con Man's Lie    I could not help myself or, at least I did not want to. I became so sly in my tongue everything I said was believable or so I thought. I think my terrible habit of a slick tongue started with my father. He was a smart man. A man with great intelligence but it was used for the wrong thing.   He was a con man, the first of my family lineage. He was born into a family of nine children, him being the eighth child. I remember growing up and he would tell me the stories of his aging. The constant struggle to get attention from his parents. The lonely feeling even with his siblings.    He was born six years apart from his brother before him and four years before his younger brother. It was a family of brothers except for his one sister, who was treated very well. Being as she was the only the girl among a crowd of men.    My father, poorly given love from what he told me. Led him to be mischievous. Looking for trouble, h...

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...

Be Homeless I hear it a lot, that the day sucks, life sucks, or something sucks. I hear people complain as if everyone is out to get them. I hear people complain because something they bought at the store is fifty cents more than what the listing in the stores coupon book said. I hear people complain because they don't have a nice car, or a house. I hear people complain all the time about the lamest things ever. People complaining about situations they put themselves in and then bitch about how they got screwed. People complain about being pulled over when they broke the law.....hint, you broke the law. Worst part is, I used to be one of these people. A mouth full of complaints like a fat kid in cupcake shop. I was rampant about complaining with every breath I had. But today's thought is not about me, it is about those that fill mouths with complaints. It is about thinking deep into something you are not and hope you would never wish to be. It is about catching ...

The Earth to The Wicked     There were no more schools of magic. No more rules, no more laws. The wicked have taken over and the good have been driven to shadow realms. Schools of magic are now the harboring homes of the wicked.     Where spells that were once locked away forever, have now been broken free. An abundance of black market spells are now sold daily on the streets. Passed from one witch to the other. From one evil wizard to the next.   Mages and magical creatures of all types, evil that is, now walk with power. With frightful anger and revenge. The world is now a breeding ground for the evil. Ghosts, beasts, and vile creatures of magic walk the streets openly.   Murder is no longer a foul act of the law, but a mere act of greed. Each wicked heart taken by another, purely for more magic. For more strength to be the ruler of the dark skies. It is forever winters kiss as long as earth is held in the grasp of evil.   No flam...

Brothers Doom The brothers collided, their eyes filled with rage. The sky sprouted with lightening. The earth burst with flames. Their wing, span from soils to clouds. The world became their battle ground. Greed filled them both, neither was satisfied. Each wanted more and more. Each wanted plentiful women, riches, and fame. Each wanted stories written of them that would last them beyond life. Where they are praised for their efforts and ignored of their sins.  But the day came where both were equal, where they achieved what no other could. Fame and riches that expanded far past their wildest dreams. Where ever they walked they were revered. Many who saw them would bow in reverence of their presence. Begging to kiss their feet like a poor man for change. But they treated the world how ever they wished. Feasting of flesh with every morsel of their being. What ever craving beseech them, they would take. Many women fell to their power, weakened by their mere loo...

A Curse and the Man of Silver Armor A few hundred-thousand feet stampede toward the castle. The rumbling of the army can be felt at the foot of the gate. Each warrior screams with mighty rage, their flags held high, which bears a red crown laced in gold, sheltering two golden lions with fiery tongues. The flag waves against the wind. This is no mere flag, it is the mortal enemy of these lands, this castle. The soldiers standing at the castle are gripped by a chill that rushes down their spine in the sight of the flag. But they show no signs of fear. Its a cold winters morning and nature is fierce today. Winds howl as snow is pelted through the air. But the thousands of warriors ignore such elements as their rage blinds them of any bitterness of nature. While others among them are of death, so they carry no nerves to be taken by the frost of winter. As they rush up the small cascade of hills that surround the castle, their stands a man in shimmering armor of silver. He stand...

The Blood of Ruling in Virtue  Unsatisfied he hungers for more. His thirst for it all reaches beyond the darkness we dare to even tease. He craves the feasting of his desires. He is vengeful in his wishes as he burns down the homes of others. Picking  pockets to supply the masses that follow behind with weary eyes bearing the hearts of sheep. Driveling with blood of exploitation upon his flesh as he drinks from his hands of rule. The weak bow before him and so he rises with hate. He embellishes his care for his people. Acting in a shroud of fraud as he waves his shepherds staff. He clouds his intentions with silver words. Never seen among his people. He orchestrates lies in the filth to demonize the populous of the wealthy, of the working. Only paying homage to the struggling, the poor. Teething with a tongue of envy, of greed. He slaughters those that plot against him or deny his murderous law. He speaks from the violent mouth of malice as his grudge of the world f...

A Child and A Gracious Genie A circle of graves stand near an old home. No one dares approach it for the tale of a witch is told to occupy its walls. Even the nearest road is a mile from it, not a single home is its neighbor. But tonight is an usual night, for tonight; a group of kids become curious. Well, not curious, more in thought of foolish bravery seasoned in the words of a dare. So, of the five, three go into the woods to find the hold house by the graves. As they travel through the dense woods at midnight, they speak softly between each other. Doing their best to display no fear, but each can hear their heart beating fiercely. Every branch that breaks beneath their feet they are consumed with fright. Startled, they cling to one another but quickly separate in an act with false bravery. The deeper they recede into the woods, the more ominous everything becomes. They can hear critters scampering between the trees with each step they take. Suddenly, the moonlight van...

The Angst of Success and Popularity There is this angst to complete it now. To bring forth the riches that others posses. To force ones self into the putrid greed of material. To breathe in the vile waves of the rotten and live in the physical. I am saddened by this wish of existence. This existence to find one in the overwhelming need to present ones self as if to be a king or queen. But know nothing of how to delegate their actions, their emotions. They hold dear to show fashion, that supposedly makes them tingle, makes them smile. But dreary is the possessor of the concrete, the possessor who lives for nothing other, than the popularity of self. Shadows rot the cavities of their soul, but they speak of it not. They latch image, an image that is baked in the sugars of man. Only to be swallowed by the naive, the young, the reckless. The teachers of wisdom, the elders of experience, and ears to listen, have been plucked. Few gardens grow the willingness to be patient, to l...

A Death For Pleasure A man, torn from his life as if he were a rat infesting the dinning of a king. Captured, thrown to the beasts for entertainment. His family, lost to fields of wheat and the unfortunate greed of men. Surrounded, his heart bears no resemblance of who he was.  Stained in the blood of strangers, survival is a must. Cheers are the only constant in his life, the uproar of crowds. Sweat brows his eyes as sun basks in thickened heat. His throat dry, but his soul beats, though weak in the bared living he has now.  He must not kneel to the fear before him. For he is still a warrior of his breath, giving no solace to his enemies. Though they wish to reap the same award, a life of freedom. A severed head rolls from a mighty swing of steel.  The air cut with a whistling of blades. The rumbling of the crowd silents the struggles of the men pitted in desperation to live. Men with seething teeth of gambling stand in intensity, as they begin to seco...