The Damned

In the future, I may consider using poetry in place of a prologue. I was compelled to write this poem for The Damned ~i think it will be on a page somewhere in the book.


The Damned


A chant carried

on a tainted breeze

Disembodied dancers

among the trees


Cold quicksilver

they ascend upon

From shallow burials

and blood-soaked loam


Veer deaf ears

thy vacant entreaty

Called by name

these tortured beings


Through the mist

an enchanting rhythm

Upon hallow land

lost souls imprisoned


On a forest path deep

tormented howling

neglected graves

thus despair surrounding



Outcast rebels

of harrow drawing

Among the morbid copse

brave warriors fallen.

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Oh, the doubts.

A person who publishes a book willfully appears before the populace with his pants down. If it is a good book, nothing can hurt him. If it is a bad book, nothing can help him. Edna St. Vincent Millay