Micah Park Biffle

   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...

   Logan's Demons    Logan weeps as he watches it all burn. The smoke rising like death from a wintry rest. He cannot help but feel the world upon his chest. His eyes flooding beneath his feet, his hands wrapped upon his face like a mask.  But he cannot hide the misery that bellows from his sorrowed soul. He is alone, a solitude man with far fetched dreams. Reaching, falling, they slip through his fingers like light. Catching only the darkness that is left behind.  Even the birds that flutter about veer from his existence. They have abandoned all trees, all of natures touch. For Logan has breached the soils of earth with rotted roots. Piercing the once flourishing greens of his land.  But he is poisoned, poisoned by the ache of his heart. His eyes drivel with sorrow, sadness has sunk into his gut. Heavy be even the smallest breath. His flesh as pale as the dead, and like the dead, he feels no more.  He feels only the decay that has g...

    Digging your own Grave?   How eager your lips spill with contempt for any step you must take. Never forced to be as you are, yet you slither with slime, sulking in the suffering of your own making. Your eyes drivel with tears as if the world should feel pity.   Your back slouched in answer of your own lack of self confidence. You confine your sorrows in drinks or, the bitter taste of your sour tongue. Contorting words with jealousy as you waddle your way with billowed blame.   Your heavy heart rests at the bottom of your gut, like a forgotten memory, rotting. Stuck in a rut, your eyes fixed downward. Looking to your feet as you raise your hand to the sky with a finger of criticism of those that speak well.   You kneel as the soils beneath your frail bones become sullied in tears. No longer can it bear the standing pressure of your chiding thoughts. You must spread your weight upon your soft ground. Your foundation is uncertain. ...

  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....

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...

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...

The Splitting of Earth The horn of the heavens rang out with a mighty bellow. The earth began to shake, every mouth of fire spewed with rage. The gods stared with bereavement of what must be done. Horror stood with a frothing mouth of carnage. The earth began to split into two, screams of suffering clouded the air. Mountain tops crumbled at the sight of the heavens. Devouring everything in their path; no creature nor village was left in safe passage. The ground began to boil, flesh became victims of shrilling heat. Mothers watched as daughters became ravaged by flames; as deafening screams of torment resounded in the ears of the mothers. Fathers observed with grieving souls as sons were crushed by falling stone. No soul was safe; the heavens rumbled with mighty roars. The sky opened with a blinding light, Angels came rushing from the stars. Gods came charging like eagles as clouds of white stormed the horizon; and as they rushed down to the splitting earth, up came the ...

The Travel Of Self  I look upon this gaping reservoir of nature. It's bold, unexplored by the metal fingers of man. A silent toast to the beauty that exists in our very backyard. The clouds, hovering at the tips of mountains like a kiss upon the cheek. As the clouds settle upon the horizon like a canvass of white. Hues of gracious complexions form with tranquility. As I carry my eyes across this mingling of natural architectural scene. I find my heart in a composition of words, trying to truly feel this moment, to interpret. But I can find nothing to equate this. There is no opening of language that can flood such a sight; bringing it to the reaches of readers, nor tongue. It is something that must be explained in the presence of experience. Of venturing to quiet hills of earth and finding the silent view so few see. I am taken deeply by this picturesque moment; for it has been twelve months since I have seen such allure, such refinement. Now upon my return, I have ded...

A Master Piece of Beauty  This distant feel calls from the stars. A strange but warming sensation, my heart beating in a fluttered pen of wings. My gut, twisted, but warm; I feel, what one would say, nervous and happy. It feels as if the stars are being flirtatious in with their presence. Turning cheeks and batting eyes, and I, no thought on how to react. I blush, turning my eyes to the ground like a child nervous upon his first kiss. My skin, feels light, almost as if its pulling me to the heavens. A wisp of air catches my cheeks and I am warmed by a smile. I pursue in pleasure of the moment, though my tongue quivers in anxiety. I am lost for words, for the beauty I am presented before my tired soul. Is elegant, its vibrant, its.....unspeakable. Why has it revealed itself to me? I am but just another soul seeking fortitude among the cold and lonely snow. Following trails of footsteps before they are taken by the rain. Washed away, never to be seen again, fleeting to t...