Black Oracles of Anfield Cemetery
Raven’s cry in broad daylight twiggy corpses holding black oracles, bright sparks in a sea of melted wax Sanctuaries of hope dance with death, candles ooze pale essence, moss feasts decaying stones Singular sparks returning to black, crooked branches, shriveled skeletons, inky feathers stain my suit His thunderous voice silent forever, a fiery passion dead silent, the red stadium’s heart forever still Wretched symbols of the inevitable, Valkyries watch through beady eyes, sharp scythes snuff out lights Life demands sacrifice for eternal youth, rigor mortis seals an obsidian prophecy, ashes to ashes, oracles await Reaper’s devoted disciples, messengers of a terrifying truth, tax collectors for precious time you owe Black banshees cry for the damned, winged shadows flocking in the night, final debt paid
Lifetime ago. black taxi makes its stop. Passengers await. A small patch of gold. Maple ripples on sweet bread. Food packet feasts mine. Bright blue brings out green. Light in merciless sea. Toasty bungalows. Bounties of wisdom. Candles melt away at night. The black taxi makes its rounds. Traceless wheels screech. White homes fade, life source leaves now. Lone bungalows weep. A new sun arrives. Shadow tires gone; mark left. Passengers aboard destination unknown.
Four Years of Hell
I am charred black soul bitter. Demons in all shapes fractured my mind contaminating my soul. My pure heart shriveled sweet and sour. Like the Messiah kindness was rewarded with cruelty. A crown of thorns piercing my brain. Judas’s disciples blend in menacing groups. My ears bleed from the lies of the foul tonged. Satan’s legacy flourishes here lies, serpents, and rumours. Power hungry vultures linger around every corner. The foul stench of evil contaminates my nostrils. The sheep huddle together to look powerful. Guardians turn a blind eye to the foulest creatures. The light of a soul fades like the sun in this cold, dark place. Surrounded by monsters and demons, masking as human beings. They infect the weak with their childhood sickness. The Prey perish as the Predators pounce. Kindness is rewarded with cruelty here, the defenceless punished and banished. Four years is a torture chamber here. Hope of many is forever trapped here. Long gone, long perished even after the four years ended. I never believed in Hell, but a place as evil as this, only proves such a place exists.
Callum McGee is a passionate BA creative writing student at Edge Hill University. His short horror story has been published on the official EHU magazine/newspaper The Quack’s blog. Callum is working on a debut fiction novel based on many Native American tribal cultures and beliefs. However, he also writes poetry tackling societal issues such as pollution, bullying, and inequality. Callum prefers writing from 1st personal point of view across his writing genres. However, he can write in 3rd or 2nd person points of view to expand his writing craft.