Micah Park Biffle

The Blameful Two  The world broke as their hearts bled the shadows of their misery. Seeping upon the world, flooding with the scars of agony. Their eyes trembling beneath the moonlight as their blood stained hands shimmer.   Their lips sewn as each is caught in a lie. Both bare, exposed to their duality. Their curtains drawn thus unmasks the bodies they have slain. The skeletons of truth dragged through the spoils of deceit.  Each, unwilling to speak. Their cheeks flush in rose petals. Their skin taut to the anxiety of their arrest. They are now the victims of themselves and each the other.  Two hell's preached in the underbelly of their weakness. The fraudulent thought in avoidance of pain. And now they stand as nude as the beginning of life, Adam and Eve.  Shaking, they are without words. Silent, bearing only tears that fall to the blood soaked floors. The dark whirlpools of hypocrisy. Neither is without sin and neither is without murder. ...

The Moles Never Learn  I found myself walking in the snow, my head aching with a sharp pain. I feel the back of my head, there is something crusted upon the rear of my skull. I dig my nail carefully into it. I can feel the crust collect beneath my nail like dirt.  As my feet trudge through the sixteen inches of snow I look to my nail and there in my nail is blood. Dried cells of my body. Upon seeing this I become confused with worry. I place my hand once again upon my bloodied skull and began to examine it.  I slide my index finger like the bristle of a broom, back and forth trying to see what wound had allowed such blood upon me. But after several seconds of feeling about, I find nothing. No scratches, no lacerations, nothing.  My worried confusion musters down to mere confusion. I rub my eyes as I am strangely held with a slight daze. As if I have been interrupted from a deep sleep. And the evening air is not helping my situation.  I am comforta...

  The Wretched   I hear them knocking on the door, their voices acting in kindness. But I know their intentions their wants. Their need to calm their craving of this false way. They are putrid to our earth, rodents that feast upon the feeble and spread disease of our touch.   I can feel them, their cold empty presence, just as I. But I did not bow to the corruption. The naive lies of their power. And now here we stand, me against them. Me against my own, how odd. How unsightly that we have drove ourselves into this.  Into this chaos all for the sake of their incessant need to be all. To be the deciders of the world. They were once nothing, just as I. We were once the subtle voices in the night that preyed only upon those who wished for such. Who approached us with peace.   But now, now we are vermin loitering the streets with our madness. Our corrupt fever of existence. I can smell them, I can smell them as I smell blood. Their tongues cove...

   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...

The Doctors Motive    The cold lights of the operation room ominously fall from the ceiling. I feel them collapse upon me with such a somber feel. As I stare between the glowing lights I begin too feel my legs become numb as they administer the injection.   The doctor and nurse peer over my face as they look down on me. There blue medical masks obscuring their faces as a dull haze of a halo mists from behind their heads. My eyes start to become heavy.  The nurses face fades from my view as the doctor continues to look at me, his eyes as still as the moon. He blinks a few times and says, "Count down from one hundred."   I start to count and as I do I feel a sudden penetration of a cold shiver take my body. But with the injection I feel no motion of shiver. A tinge of worry takes me as I count. "One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven...."  I can no longer keep my eyes open. Fighting has become hopeless as I feel a frigid presence h...

    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...

   Gorgkick The Coward   Gorkick, the infamous writer of historical literature, walks down our muddied roads with his embellished belly. He walks as if he were a pig on two legs. His over sized mustache tickles his lower lip. Causing him to constantly wiggle his mouth from irritation. They say he grew it to help hide his hideous smile.   But I say he grows it to feel more like a man. For he is cowardly in his approach to the world before him. Sadly, he is our only hope of change and freedom. But his cowarding approval of himself leaves him wavering to the whim of our iron fist leader.   His eyes sink into his fat face like marbles pressed into fresh clay. They linger about our surroundings as we watch him walk. Investigating our village with little scrutiny as soldiers stand erect with weapons in hand. Following him like watch dogs, panting at the sight of our impoverished presence.   I follow carefully from a short distance. Keeping my pres...

A Desert Wanderer  This desert, a paradise of the lost. A visual spectacle, a mind bending stage for the brilliant, the madness of the mind. Wandering with aimless hope as the chest dries of breath and lips crust with desert wind.   How strange this place be. A bland wonder of the earth where few live. Eyes looking onward to the dusting horizon as the sun sinks behind mounds of turbulent sand. Looking, with wild eyes as creatures of familiarity parade toward this frail conception of life. Yet they be foreign, exotic though they be of the familiar, I swear. Yet awkward form falls from them.   Long legs, like a spider, but only four. A snout to smell and large extended ears to hear. Protecting the canals from the storms of the desert. So high, with tusks that curve with polished ivory. Skin of leather hide with prickles of hair, like nettles.   But their legs, how odd, how wondrous, a magic trick maybe.....of the mind. For they never end, but only begin. A...

   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...