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Welcome to Afterwards

You won’t leave feeling affirmed or inspired but you might just crack a smile at something you shouldn’t, and that is okay because I wont tell anybody. Someone even laughed out loud once but then had to pretend it was something funny they read elsewhere because it was wholly inappropriate and they were a bit ashamed but mostly amused.

You won’t leave feeling affirmed or inspired but you might just crack a smile at something you shouldn’t, and that is okay because I wont tell anybody.  Someone even laughed out loud once but then had to pretend it was something funny they read elsewhere because it was wholly inappropriate and they were a bit ashamed but mostly amused.

Fluctuating Follies – Exodus 0.3

A continuation of a start of something perhaps…Just trying to get my juices flowing again

Michelle does a load of great prompts each month. I used to do a lot but less so now. Ill try get back into them I think. Theyre often just snippets of things and seldom more. This one is the glimmer of an idea I needed to get down on paper, using the prompts as ca bit of an idea spark – and like everything else I pretty much just share it whether done or not.

Part 1 of this is here

Part 2 is here

_________________________

Admiral Kent stood legs akimbo, hands on hips as he cast his gaze over the bank of screens laid out before him.

“How do I look Fisher?” he asked turning slowly, his once chiselled physique now like too much sausage meat squashed into too little skin.

“Regal Sir” Fisher lied.

“Really? Are you sure?” He placed one hand on a nearby desk and leaned nonchalantly, turned his head as if to look wistfully into the distance. Perhaps at a herd of reindeer on a hill side. He did rather like reindeer. “You don’t think it would look better if I were a little more… relaxed?”

“No not at all sir” Fisher insisted clasping her clipboard tight. “I think you look very imposing sir.”

“Imposing you say?” Kent liked that. He smiled and assumed his previous pose, sucking in his stomach. “And what time will the artist be here?” He asked turning his head so that what he regarded as his good side got what little light there was from the copper wall sconces scattered around the room.

“He’s already here sir. You asked to see Cole first though.”

“I did, I did yes of course. And is my dress uniform ready? I do want to look my best for my portrait.”

“Yes sir, it’s in your quarters.” Said Fisher, her knuckles white as she gripped her clipboard even harder. The lengths she had gone to for her stripes and here she was baby sitting this deluded fool of a man on a pointless mining outpost.

“And the hat too? You haven’t forgotten that right?”

“Hat too sir. Yes.”

“Jolly good. Please send Cole in…”

Cole entered the room and brushed past Fisher. She bristled as he came near and glared at him, nostrils flared. Cole really had no idea why she hated him so much. That is not to say that he did not know why she hated him, he did. But how much she seemed to despise him did seem excessive. He did sometimes wonder if it was displaced passion or maybe an unrequited love kind of thing and all that pining for a lovers touch shenanigans. It could also have been the way he treated her back in flight school. Who knew really, it was one or the other. He never could tell with women, they were a curious thing to him.

Cole continued past Fisher, stopped in front of the Commander and saluted. “You asked to see me Commander Kent?”

The Com turned slowly from where he had been staring at nothing in particular at the other side of the room. It was something he liked to practice as he felt it gave off quite the impressive dramatic effect as he turned back slowly.

“Ah yes, Cole, thank you for coming” he said.

Cole waited. Kent said nothing.

Cole shuffled and looked around as Kent continued to say nothing, again practising his dramatic delivery. He was getting very good at it he thought to himself.

Cole continued to wait uncomfortably, wondering whether the Com had perhaps suffered a stroke. Or perhaps some sort of neural embolism. A newb pilot in his squadron during the Martian wars had suffered some sort of mental schism at the onset of a sortie to scout a Martian moon base, and when his autopilot brought him home the lights had been well and truly turned off and he was most definitely not home anymore.

“Good to see you Cole” Kent said, the dramatic pause apparently concluded. “How have you been?” Cole opened his mouth to speak but Kent didn’t wait for an answer. “You’re going to be heading a mission out beyond the mining belt.” He continued quite matter of fact.

“I see” said Cole surprised. “To where exactly Sir? There’s a whole lot of nothing out there. And some pretty ‘awful somethings’.”

Fisher’s customary scowl broke into something close to a smile. Just getting beyond the belt was dangerous enough given your proximity to Mars, and beyond that very few Earth ships went since the war.

“Well, that’s just the thing Cole, I don’t really know. Orders came through from High Command and that’s really all I know. They asked for you specifically, seems you have something of a reputation and they felt you were the right man for the job. Whatever the job is.”

“And what is the Job Sir?” Cole pressed.

“Absolutely no idea” Kent said, his voice trailing away as he turned slowly away to stare once more into the distance. “That’ll be all Cole, Fisher will give you more details. Departure set for tomorrow at zero eight hundred.”

Fisher grinned as Cole turned without saluting and heading slowly towards where she stood. Her small dark eyes seemed to dance in a way that Cole was certain her body certainly could not.

“Oh and Fisher” Said Kent as Cole reached the door.

“Yes Sir?” Said Fisher tucking her clipboard under her arm and drawing herself to attention.

“You will make sure you make that I have my hat before you go right?

“Go sir?” Fisher said quizzically.

“Yes, really do need it for the picture you know and they asked for you for the mission too so really don’t want you to forget it. I did mention that didn’t I?”

“No Sir, you didn’t” Fisher answered, the smile now disappeared from her face.

“Oh I am Sorry” Kent said. “Really should have mentioned it before now, my memory can be quite terrible at time. Anyway, good luck to both of you, and don’t forget the hat before you go.”

_________________________

Here are a few others from way back

https://afterwards.blog/2019/03/11/harvest-room-101/

https://afterwards.blog/2019/03/11/harvest-room-101/

https://afterwards.blog/2019/10/07/the-fizzled-enchantment-and-other-stories-of-ruin-room-101/

Turning

Read the word ‘Fluctuate’ somewhere on my reader and it triggered this…

Between the tides he fluctuates

The stir of dreams, the love and hate

seems far too late a pause he takes

And break the silence, then to wait

But echo’s are all that returns

While soul it yearns and passion burns

Like fire, fierce, consumes and turns

Man into cinders, so he learns

To quell the cravings, quiet the hate

Embrace the now, love out of reach

And leaves but footsteps on the beach

Corona Lock down Diaries – Day Eleventytwelve – Green Fingers

In an English country garden…

I’ve never been one for gardening, the extent of my green fingered interests lying mostly with occasionally mowing the lawn and popping to the tip to throw away all the dead plants Mrs Afterwards bought in an attempt to brighten up the back way.

About 2 weeks before lockdown we started a building project, a cellar conversion is underway with a new entrance meaning the builders had to dig our where previously I was cultivated a lovely collection of weeds, hosepipes and rusting bicycles. As they dug out for the steps and the new door they discovered a mass of old stone which seemed to have been used as backfill when the house was built in 1906. Driven, I think, by my love of cutting corners and looking for shortcuts I insisted that they not worry about moving it but to leave it and I would instead build a rockery.

I then went away to research rockeries.

Anyway, long and not particularly interesting story short, Ive spend the past many weeks putting together what I think passes as one (who knows how long has passed – we are, as you know, in lockdown time and that doesn’t move like real time) . Something I am sure will be proven by bearded scientists in years to come in an attempt to explain just how it was possible that people got so fat during quarantine when they swear they went for a long walk everyday and ate lots of salad.

There was membrane laying. rock piling, soil carting, plant planting, fountain fitting, light fitting and pebble placing. The photos below show my progress.

I would note that as pretty as I think it looks, I am currently having some problems with finding it all a little creepy and unnerving. The plants (I just went for alpines and succulents) are spreading at a phenomenal rate. The succulents doubled in size in a week and I swear to Jeebus they sing this sweet little song when I look at them but I know that they want to lay spores inside my orifices and control me and make me do their bidding.

Fuck them! Might just lay a patio.

Corona Lock down Diaries – Day 428 – Relaxing the rules

A slight change in the lockdown rules. Probably. Maybe.

So today sees something of a relaxation of the lockdown rules here in England. As long as you can figure them out. We can apparently go out and meet with other people outdoors, but must maintain social distancing. Oh and we can only meet one on one. I think. So you could potentially meet one of your parents but not both at the same time.

You could though leave one locked in the car (with a window cracked for safety) and then enjoy alternate visits with them. You cannot however see both at the same time. Unless they both stay in the car and you roll the window down fully and maintain a safe distance from the pavement. That you can do.

They cannot though give you a lift home if it starts to rain and you’ve forgotten your umbrella. You’ll have to just get wet.

On the plus side, the government have extended the furlough scheme meaning 7 million people will be guaranteed 80% of their wage, from the government, until the end of June. Beyond that it will continue until the end of September, though at a reduced rate.

I do fear that people will go out and throw caution to the wind though. There will then be an inevitable spike and those back to work will then have to return home under a second lockdown and they will all resume their government funded lie ins, scrolling through Tik Tok and vigorous masturbation.

Maybe that’s the hope. Who knows.

Be Pure, be Vigilant, Behave

Corona Lock down Diaries – DIY Haircut

DIY hair cut and beard trim

I have a t-shirt which proclaims that a man who sacrifices his bear for a woman deserves neither. Think about it for a moment. Okay, got it? A deep truth and one I believe most firmly. I have the t-short so it must be true, right?

I do enjoy a good beard, and lock down has allowed me to cultivate a particularly large one. Well large by my usual standards. It is not of a hillbilly serial killer or suicide bomber quality, but it’s a decent effort I think. Okay so it’s not wholly out of choice – I couldn’t find my razor charger once it got to the ‘needs a trim stage’, but it is of a decent enough quality to probably scare dogs and small children.

When it comes to hair, I usually sport a number one crew cut also so the hair has been enjoying a summer of freedom also. It gets kinda wavy and curly when I let it grow which is usually a sign to shave it all off.

I found the beard trimmer yesterday and charged it so was able to have a crack at it today. It’s no easy feat to cut your hair with a beard trimmer but after about half an hour of carefully and gradually reducing the length I think I just about cracked it. At the front at least. I think perhaps I may have the beginnings of a mullet at the back but it’ll do for now.

Tomorrow I am hoping to have a crack at my youngest’s hair. He had a lockdown cut from the missus using only a pair of blunt kitchen scissors and whilst it looked okay at first it now looks like a scruffy version of Boris Johnson.

If that can even be a thing…

Corona Lock down Diaries – Day 1

How has your experience been?

I know it is not day 1, we are obviously at what feels like 427 days into lockdown, but this is the first day I have chosen to write about it. It may be my last too. Not as in it is my last day but in that I may not choose to write about it again.

On the work front, it has been a pretty easy ride for me so far. I run a team of financial modellers for a large bank and they sent us home even before the lockdown was declared and they have been brilliant in supporting us. We can order whatever equipment we need, they pay us whether we can actually get any work done or not, and on that front it has been pretty plain sailing. There are challenges of course but moaning about them would seem petty. Ive managed to move to a 4 day week, have developed a taste for home working and do not really ever see myself returning to the office full time even after this shit storm has passed. If anything, I think I am working harder and longer than before.

At home there have been a few challenges given that we commenced a building project to renovate the 3 cellars in the house two weeks before lockdown so have been living in a building site for a couple of months but we seem to have ridden that pretty well. Yes we only have a few usable rooms and yes, it’s filthier than a whore’s nickers but there are worse things going on out there right. Some of the builders have recently returned which has posed a few issues with trying to social distance inside our own home but now that they have fitted a toilet in the cellar and the separate entrance we don’t really see them much but we know they are down there because of the absolute bedlam of hammering and drilling going on.

Home schooling has been hilarious. I did some volunteer teaching a while back and quite enjoyed it so figured I might be good at this. Turns out I could not be more wrong. I have neither the patience, aptitude nor – at this is probably the most important point – intelligence to teach my own children. Fortunately the wife is far more intelligent (yes I have said it MRs Afterwards if you read this) and suited to it than I am so she has for the most part taken up the mantle of teacher. It still occasionally results in shouting, crying and threats of putting the boys up for adoption but all we can do is try.

So day to day things seem pretty much in hand. I will admit that the whole thing certainly has me anxious on a number of fronts – as it does most people I am sure. We have family members who are isolated on their own, there is always the worry of what if’ and there is the inevitable endless speculation about where this all ends. The wife is more pragmatic than me in these things so she has been doing most of the shopping as I definitely worry about going outside more than she does. On that front though I can;t actually get out much right now anyway because on Friday I fell down a step heading outside and have damaged my ankle pretty badly so am not particularly mobile right now. Funny thing is though, as I fell I knew it was going to be bad and in less than a second I clearly remember throwing myself forward to prevent me doing something even worse to it thinking “Fuck this, I ain’t going to no hospital!”

I think that is about enough for now. That has you mostly caught up with our general situation and I will possibly write more now that I’ve started…

Sunset

Words and more words and more words still…

Memories in monochrome, sweet youth now seems so far away

and slowly memories ebb and flow, sandcastles crumbling in the tide

And walls fall down she cannot hide

Heart’s windows closed, doors locked, inside

She waits, so frail, her mind to long lost days does stray

Remembering, those rainbow days

Grey swept away, bright lights so shine

And lovers limbs do sweet entwine

Once more taste embrace divine

And hand in hand he finds her there in summer’s perfumed haze.

And so he leads her, barefoot, laughing, youth restored

Down paths familiar painted through the years

In love and joy, devoid of fears

And through the door, there no more tears

At last she rests, home, much loved and adored

Forgetting

Blah blah Blah words

The brightness of the things that were

Like summer sun warm on the skin

Now shadows cast, and blind her gaze

And endless days to night give way

Until they set, horizons crimson

Set ablaze just one last time

No more remembers, dawn will come

Follows the embers, She remembers him no more

And light once more reveals her beauty

Safe in the warmth, new days embrace

Limerick?

Pretty sure this is a thing. Bet there are web sites dedicated to it.

Once a fellow who gladly would savour

His gaseous girls rectal flavour

Inhaled her bottom gusts

and they filled him with lust

Made more foul by the beans that he gave her

____________

Here’s a follow up, a 2 for 1

____________

A foul smelling fan, name of Martin

Got turned on when his wife started farting

He’d breath in butt aroma

Made him quite a loud moaner

He’d explode when her butt cheeks were parting

_________

Sorry

Not sorry

2000AD Stuff – My Sov-Judge Badge

The latest edition to my 2000AD collection of stuff.

Heres another one I purchased a while back. The 2000AD Apocolypse War stories were some of the most influential strips when I was growing up and I could not resist this when I saw it. It is a 2 type resin cast with a stand and just quite fabulous! It has a little stand for displaying.

You can get a peek here of some of the other stuff I have added about my love…

https://afterwards.blog/2020/04/06/2000ad-stuff-my-carlos-ezquerra-lawgiver-replica/

https://afterwards.blog/2018/09/02/2000ad-art-rogue-trooper-by-mike-collins/

https://afterwards.blog/2018/07/05/my-dredd-tattoo-2/

https://afterwards.blog/2018/07/07/my-other-dredd-tattoo/

https://afterwards.blog/2018/08/08/2000ad-art-dredd-and-the-dark-judges-david-bircham/

https://afterwards.blog/2018/07/22/2000ad-action-figure-judge-death/

https://afterwards.blog/2018/07/05/2000ad-script-t-b-grover-alan-grant-and-art-by-cliff-robinson/

A Limerick. On a Sunday. It is Sunday right?

February had 29 days, March 200 and April has 625. I have no idea what day or month it is to be honest…

This poor lad I know, self isolated

Spent his days watching porn, masturbated

Till his bits were quite raw

And his arms were real sore

And his balls were all red and inflated

Soup sandwiches – Exodus 0.2

A continuation of a start of something perhaps…Just trying to get my juices flowing again

Michelle does a load of great prompts each month. I used to do a lot but less so now. Ill try get back into them I think. Theyre often just snippets of things and seldom more. This one is the glimmer of an idea I needed to get down on paper, using the prompts as ca bit of an idea spark – and like everything else I pretty much just share it whether done or not.

Part 1 of this is here

_________________________

“Would you like refreshments sir?” Offered the Nutri-Bot as it hurried alongside Cole as he strode from the deck. It clicked and whirred in hopeful anticipation of a sale, the outline of a small serving hatch in the front of its white cylindrical body pulsing with an inviting blue light. “I am fully equipped to provide all the daily sustenance you require in a single…”

“No thank you” Said Cole, almost apologetically. Re-entry always left his stomach feeling rather uneasy and the nondescript beige the bots served up was the last thing he wanted. They were only machines but they did tend to take it personally when you declined.

“Are you sure Sir?” It asked again, a hint of desperation in it’s voice. “I have a quite delicious lobster bisque available today. Freshly prepared.”

“Is it beige?” Cole asked, knowing full well that it was. It was all beige. Always. This however was all the encouragement the machine required and it leapt into a detailed expose of both the nutritional and existential benefits of lobster bisque. As the bot continued to click-whir Cole quickly packed his flight suit into his rack and put on his orange service overalls. He pulled the belt tight about his waist and his black cap onto his head.

“No, really, I am fine. Thank you” he insisted as he headed for the exit to the hanger while the Nutri-Bot lurched into an explanation of the historical importance of lobster bisque in the pre-Martian war western culinary movement.

And then Cole stopped in his tracks abruptly . The Nutri-Bot ceased click-whirring and then fell silent also. Cole reconsidered his previous position and relegated the Nutri-Bot’s offer to second on his list of things he did not at all want. The last thing he wanted was stood directly in front of him, arms folded, and a face like a bulldog chewing a wasp.

“Hello Cole” snapped Fisher, a sneer creeping across her thin lips. Cole’s eyes were drawn to the stripes on her shoulder.

“Promoted I see” Said Cole.

“Cream rises to the top” said Fisher. She held out clip board in such a threateningly efficient way that it made Cole take a step backwards. “Com wants to see you now on the deck. Double time.”

Cole patted the Nutri-Bot on what was most likely it’s head as he passed through the hanger doors. “She looks hungry” he said smiling.

_____________________

Here are a few others from way back

https://afterwards.blog/2019/03/11/harvest-room-101/

https://afterwards.blog/2019/03/11/harvest-room-101/

https://afterwards.blog/2019/10/07/the-fizzled-enchantment-and-other-stories-of-ruin-room-101/

Only Resolve – Exodus 0.1

A start of something perhaps…Just trying to get my juices flowign again

Michelle does a load of great prompts each month. I used to do a lot but less so now. Ill try get back into them I think. Theyre often just snippets of things and seldom more. This one is the glimmer of an idea I needed to get down on paper an like everything else I pretty much just share it whether done or not.

_________________________

Cole sat and stared into the blackness of space, his scout craft threading slowly between the twisted debris of the countless burnt out ships that orbited what remained of the Earth. The massive empty shells, once home to the last of the Earth’s forces, drifted silently, destroyed long ago in the endless wars now forgotten by all but those who clung to the stories of the past.

As a child, he remembered looking to the skies on warm summer evenings and recalled how, from the surface, there seemed to be so many stars, a vast swathe of pinpricks across the curtain of night, but up here, all he saw was the darkness.

The radio crakled into life. It was M. Unmistakably M.

“Hey Cole” she shouted, “you up there feeling all pensive and thinking abnout the darkness?”

Cole smiled and shook his head. She knew him too well. Not that he minded.

“I’ve picked up a deposit of Trilatium in a cruiser in quadrant six. I’m heading over there now.”

“So that’s a yes then” M replied, Cole could hear the smile in her voice.

“Affirmative” said Cole. He never quite knew what to say to her.

“Well you’ll be please to know Fisher wants all ships back Earth side asap so you can get your sweet arse back down here sharpish and stop contemplating the mysteries of the great abyss.”

“Copy that M, I’ll rendezvous with…”

“Sharpish Cole” M scolded, “no rendezvousing, no checking in, no gathering, assembling or fly-bying. Get yourself home now, there’s something going down and brass seem pretty shaken up. “

“Copy that” answered Cole adjusting his nav and tightening his harness. He wasn’t a big fan of re-entry, and these old scout ships has an unnerving ability to come to pieces if you pushed them too hard.

“Oh and Cole, pop by the canteen when you get back will you, you owe me a drink.”

“And why exactly is that?” Cole asked. He was pretty certain that he didn’t owe her anything at all.

M laughed. “God you’re a dense one aren’t you. You’re lucky you’re so damn pretty. Just do as I tell you Cole, I know what’s best for you. You trust me? Right?”

He steered the scout ship through the massive hull of a burnt out Martian destroyer, the blackened levels towering above him on both sides. Once home to thousands of Federation soldiers, now long dead, the place gave him the chills.

“See you Earth side M” Cole answered smiling. “Over and out.”

_____________________

Here are a few others from way back

https://afterwards.blog/2019/03/11/harvest-room-101/

https://afterwards.blog/2019/03/11/harvest-room-101/

https://afterwards.blog/2019/10/07/the-fizzled-enchantment-and-other-stories-of-ruin-room-101/

2000AD Stuff – My Carlos Ezquerra Lawgiver Replica

The latest edition to my 2000AD collection of stuff.

About a year ago I ordered myself this little beauty. I think it was for an anniversary or birthday or Christmas, I don’t really recall, and it was mnostly just an excuse because really I ordered it because I wanted it.

I am a huge 2000ad fan and have every one of the weekly comics(2175 and counting) as well as an assortment of tattoos, artwork and other paraphernalia all 2000ad related. My youngest is actually named after Judge Dredd – so you get my general level of obsession.

Below is my replica lawgiver, Dredd’s sidearm. Released by Planet Replicas following the death of legendary Dredd Artist and co-creator Carlos Ezquerra.

I had to wait a ridiculous long time for it because of Donald Trump – he was due to be imposing tariffs so they shipped all the US orders first. Cheers Donald, who would have thought he could go down in my estimation! Well worth the wait though. Cast in resin and hand finished it is a quite lovely replica and one that I cannot wait to get on display once my current building project eventually finishes.

You can get a peek here of some of the other stuff I have added about my love…

https://afterwards.blog/2018/09/02/2000ad-art-rogue-trooper-by-mike-collins/

https://afterwards.blog/2018/07/05/my-dredd-tattoo-2/

https://afterwards.blog/2018/07/07/my-other-dredd-tattoo/

https://afterwards.blog/2018/08/08/2000ad-art-dredd-and-the-dark-judges-david-bircham/

https://afterwards.blog/2018/07/22/2000ad-action-figure-judge-death/

https://afterwards.blog/2018/07/05/2000ad-script-t-b-grover-alan-grant-and-art-by-cliff-robinson/

Fatties in Isolation

Bet you’d forgotten about these two…I had…

The last year I have not been particularly active on my blog, but there was a time when I was prolific. Having more time on my hands has me returning a little more often and dusting off the ideas I had parked. Today I think I will revisit one of my favourite series of pieces and bring it up to date. You can see all the previous pieces at the links below. I think. It’s mostly just dirty poetry about a curvaceous couple having sex in space as I recall. I think I even did an audio poem version.

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/31/fatties-in-space-not-one-for-the-kiddies/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/09/23/fatties-in-space-the-poem-not-for-kiddies/

https://afterwards.blog/2018/07/15/fatties-in-space-the-poem-audio/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/10/14/fatties-in-space-part-3-definitely-still-not-for-kiddies/

https://afterwards.blog/2018/07/28/fatties-in-space-part-4-the-poem-audio/

https://afterwards.blog/2019/01/14/fatties-in-space-part-5/

Bloody hell I did a lot of that didn’t I…

Anyway let us return to the present…

____________________________________

So some time has elasped and our couple content

watch tv, go for walks, quiet evenings are spent

with warm slippers, and tea and a nice box of chocs

Now she eats praline creams where she once ate his cock

And sweet caramel swirls feed his most basic cravings

Seems an eon since balls deep they were misbehaving

But we’ve all been there, right?

Grown complacent and settled

Since the humming bird sampled from soft pink sweet petals

Work gets in the way, rowdy kids take their toll

Rather just read a book where you once rode the pole

If efforts arent made then lusts embers can fade

Now you’re getting quite fat instead of getting laid

But seems things are afoot, it’s a changed situation

For our couple are now in enforced isolation

Social distancing worries have them safe at home

And for weeks now they’ve been pretty much all alone

And without the distraction and stresses and strains

And with time on their hands seems they start to refrain

From excuses and reasons not to both enjoy

The pleasures of flesh and fun toys to employ

Like the bike not forgotten theyre back on the horse

Shes not wuite as flexible, he’s breathless of course

But the thril of the bliss and the gratification

Oh the sweet benefits of this home isolation…

Walls

Blah blah Blah words

I scratched your name into these walls

Of discontent, and love’s betrayal

And red raw, blood drips, slowly pools

Reflected, crimson, stained teeth bared

Wild eyes, I see your laughing face

These knuckles white, your cackles sharp

Like razors cut, pink flesh, clean through

Skin, muscles, sinew, fat and bone

Spilled violently with no regard

Your words, dark deeds, most ill intent

Until a shadow’s all that’s left

Which fades as light tries to caress

’till dark returns scars to embrace