disolved from redemption chiming of the whispers becomes the path of damnation as the echo of prayers denied from their salvation passing from their souls dying from the ashes in flood
followed in death they become damnation for their crimes coins placed upon their eyes waiting for the gates of Charon becoming from the descent of the one, the king of flies, carrying the echoes of the wounded upon their hands, bare the blood,
Followed from their lives into demise, the hands of Charon of their sleep falling from grace spending eternity within a lake of piss wounds cutting into their flesh and buring to their soul and bone when all that is left without answer devoured by the demon, head first screaming for their death, yet alive
drawn into the eyes of the blind becoming from them in death closer they become to the end as it comes among their final breath in a darkness they weep blood as they hear a tolling of the bell, and the writing upon the wall, words telling of their personal hell, upon their hands, death in floods
closer to the path, souls they burn to hell they follow, too late they learn all that is holy they denied, walked away in their eyes and paths of destruction, a path of eternal demise waiting for them, closer to the lies they see before their eyes walking closer to the paths of hell, looking on into the eyes of Charon as waiting for them to open the gates, becoming from the eyes of the guity when they awaken to their waiting fate,
submerged in a lake of piss they watch when their mortal body walks to the blade again they will see the reason they die, for them to watch again as their soul fades within the second death they will suffer within the lake of brimstone and flames, as they lay waiting for the ferryman and the hand of the man looking on in the fires that they face in damnation
"Is horror all you write?" must be the most frequent question people ask you. If you keep this up you'll be a world-class grand master of the horrific,though I'm sure you'll resist entombment in that genre. This is so akin to S.King yet utterly distinctive. I'd say a special brand of driving prose, graphically rendered.
Superb work..Bravo Nickolaus!
Chilling right through to my spine.This reminds of Apocalypse Now and kurtz...as they slowly make their way down the river.
The poem is gothic and biblical which gives it a strange twist into the reality of mortality.Great write.anne pawlak.
Reviewed by Robert Sheridan
Reviewed on September 10, 2004
Nickolaus,
Had a great-great-great grandfather named 'Nicolas' - of Spanish descent. Your gothic imagery is superb - this is one outstanding write!
closer to the path, souls they burn
to hell they follow, too late they learn
all that is holy they denied, walked away
in their eyes and paths of destruction,
a path of eternal demise waiting for them,
closer to the lies they see before their eyes
walking closer to the paths of hell,
looking on into the eyes of Charon
as waiting for them to open the gates,
becoming from the eyes of the guity
when they awaken to their waiting fate,
Ahhh, I see what you mean, Nickolaus. The themes are indeed similar. Your writing conjures more visions of Dante though, I think. *smiles* But indeed, arrogance seems to be the root of cause of why these folks meet such unpleasant fates. What archetypes!
Provocative stuff you've got here. I'm sure you've chilled your share of the masses. LOL
This poem deserves more than a three or four word review Nickolaus. Your work is deep and dark and goes beyond the average imagination! You carry a person along in the despair and darkness of almost death. Excellent and I'm very glad I stop by to read some of your work. I've found some of the nicest people write the deepest, darkest horror!
Did you ever wonder what happened after the Archangel Michael through the demons out of heaven? Let one of them guide you through the origin of evil in the world.
WEIRD RHODY is a short story collection featuring five strange tales all set in Rhode Island and written by five Rhode Island authors. The anthology is a tribute to H.P. Lovecraft, the Ocean State's famed author of pulp horror.
In the end they'll all be dancin'--all them ones that didn't die.... Dance with me in the shadows amidst the lightning and the thunder, and all that nu-cu-lar debris. See the big bang from the other side, and then open that cellar door. Go down into
Birgit and Roger
Superb work..Bravo Nickolaus!
Vesna
The poem is gothic and biblical which gives it a strange twist into the reality of mortality.Great write.anne pawlak.
Had a great-great-great grandfather named 'Nicolas' - of Spanish descent. Your gothic imagery is superb - this is one outstanding write!
Robert
Sandie May Angel
M.Rose
to hell they follow, too late they learn
all that is holy they denied, walked away
in their eyes and paths of destruction,
a path of eternal demise waiting for them,
closer to the lies they see before their eyes
walking closer to the paths of hell,
looking on into the eyes of Charon
as waiting for them to open the gates,
becoming from the eyes of the guity
when they awaken to their waiting fate,
Ahhh, I see what you mean, Nickolaus. The themes are indeed similar. Your writing conjures more visions of Dante though, I think. *smiles* But indeed, arrogance seems to be the root of cause of why these folks meet such unpleasant fates. What archetypes!
Provocative stuff you've got here. I'm sure you've chilled your share of the masses. LOL
Sherry
Janet xoxoxo
Carmen :-)