death – Page 6 – Afterwards

The In-between – Part 3 of 31

“. As I wander there are colours and flashes of things that I know I recognise and that seem so familiar but yet I struggle to name. “

Okay so I’m doing M’s prompts and going to try and do a full month as one long story with no planning. Today it is ‘Liquid Love.’

The instructions are to simply write for ten minutes or so each day and that’s about it.

Read part 1 here

Read part 2 here

Of late, and I say that with a degree of caution because time does not seem to hold any significance here, I am finding that the longing consumes me less and less and a clarity seems to be returning to my thinking.

Now that is not to say I know what is going on, because I do not, but I have been able to explore this curious existence and am finding that it is not as grey and empty as I once thought. A world of misty nothing seems to be revealing itself to me piece by piece, and just today I saw a tree. I don’t know what type of tree it was, perhaps a beech or a birch – I tend to get them mixed up – but there it was doing precisely nothing just as you would expect from a tree.

It’s gnarled trunk rose above me where sprawling branches were capped with a thick covering of leaves, dappled sunlight flooding through in golden rays from a sunless sky. Below my feet her roots stretched deep dow into nothing. There was a also a narrow river, a glittering ribbon of blue and silver meandering slowly through the nothing and into which the tree had dipped a number of her roots. As she drank I could see the waters glowing as it pulsed and coursed through her limbs.

Beyond the things I know and recognise there are also glimpses and echoes of a world just beyond my grasp, perhaps the one I left or somewhere else, but they are there and at times so very close. Feint voices call out and have me spinning as if recognising the comforting hello of an old friend. As I wander there are colours and flashes of things that I know I recognise and that seem so familiar but yet I struggle to name.

And then, as I stood beneath the cool canopy dipping my toes in the trickling water I knew that I was no longer alone.

Read part 4 here

The In-between – Part 2 of 31

“…The worst thing about dying is not the pain, that passes pretty quickly,”

Okay so I’m doing M’s prompts and going to try and do a full month as one long story with no planning. Today it is ‘Senseless Sacrifices.’

The instructions are to simply write for ten minutes or so each day and that’s about it.

Read part 1 here

The worst thing about dying is not the pain, that passes pretty quickly, it’s actually the immense sense of loss you feel afterwards that really gets to you. Once you realise that there is nowhere left to go, which is bad enough in itself because a lack of destination is something I find wholly unsettling, there is the overwhelming realisation that pretty much everything else is gone.

Beyond the obvious and rather painful longing for the people you have left behind you also find yourself bombarded by a sadness at the loss of things of a far more mundane nature. Since shuffling off of the mortal coil I have spent entire afternoons pining for my old bicycle, the red one that I should have ridden more but didn’t because it gave me the most terrible chafing. Whole mornings have been spent dwelling upon missed opportunities to listen to the radio late at night when the signal of far-away stations seemed stronger and I was able to scroll through the bands picking up such strange foreign voices.

So many things taken for granted now seem so precious and a lifetime of missed opportunities weighs heavy on those of us trapped in this nothing of an existence and not a moment passes when I ask myself was what I did worth it…

Part 3 is here

The In-between – Part 1 of 31

Okay so I’m doing M’s prompts and going to try and do a full month as one long story with no planning. The first was titled ‘The Inbetween’ so thats the name of the story. Each prompt is only meant to take a few minutes. Let’s see how it goes.

I’m not sure what I am anymore. I know I’m dead, I remember that all too well, but it was hardly the significant finale I was expecting.

There were no pearly gates or lights to head towards, and neither was there fire nor brimstone nor the anguished gnashing of teeth – something Mrs Henderson next door would most certainly be disappointed about given her insistence that one day my wicked ways would most certainly be repaid in true Old Testament fashion.

The way she always looked at me when she said it I’m pretty sure she meant buggery, she just had that look of a woman who feared buggery above all things. Her husband was a big man, so that may have explained it.

So alas Mrs Henderson I am afraid there is a distinct lack of buggery wherever it is that I am, though there are rather a lot of us here in-between who are somewhat in need of an answer as to just what is going on.

Part 2 is here

Inside – Part 1 of 6 – Room 101

Cal spread his hands, the holo screen materialising and blinking into life.

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. They are, this month at least, just 101 words only. They dont always finish, I just like to try and evoke a certain feeling or scene. I also decided to combine this with M’s prompts. Today it was ‘Nano Nano’. I am going to try tell a short tale in 6 one hundred and one word pieces and publish them all today.

Cal spread his hands, the holo screen materialising and blinking into life. Retinal scans signed him into the programme core whilst the nanites coursing through his veins allowed him to interact directly with the screen interface.

Smiling, he cracked his knuckles and then pulled up a list of all suitable candidates within a two block radius of the target. He paged through the list, the screen a blur of faces and vitals until he found what he was looking for.

“Henderson Gill. Zoom” he said and focused in on a map showing Gill’s location. “You look like you need a drink.”

A twinge of fate – March Prompts 25/31

A brief meander

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what whimsical nonsense I can whip up in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

I’m not a believer in predestination, but I know people are, and that’s great. In fact, I am not a believer in much other than what I can see or what can be proven.

I used to believe in all sorts of stuff, but no more. I gave that lark up a few years ago and whilst I’m still working on parts of what I believe I find that mostly, beyond that which can be proven, I think we’re a huge stroke of luck and in this mind mindbogglingly large universe we are very much a ripple in a vast ocean of chance.

Now I know I should probably have a better answer than that but you know what, I don’t. A friend of mine insists we are here for a good time not a long time and I like that. I am not talking pure hedonistic pleasures, simply the pursuit of that which makes you happy.

I reckon that when we’re dead we are simply no more and whatever energy courses through us is released when we are disposed of in which ever way we might choose.

I know it is simple and that lots of people have compelling arguments to the contrary but I don’t really care because I have found a peace that I never had at any other point in my life and I’m rather happy with that.

Ruby Red – March Prompts 20/31

Oh how very horrid.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what whimsical nonsense I can whip up in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

Ruby red she swirls and spins

And craves a life he cannot give

And laughter peaks and frantic dips

Entranced by eyes and heart and hips

Each day and night he toils and strains

To please her hunger as it grows

Voraciaous she devours it all

And never sated death does call

Worth more in the ground than with beating heart

with greed consumed she seeks to feast

And so she schemes and plots and plans

His life to take with blood soiled hands

And with widows sorrow she does weep

as slowly lowered into the ground

and ruby red heart swirls and leaps

all that was his now hers to keep

Antsy Pantsy – March Prompts 19/31

Oh how very horrid.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what whimsical nonsense I can whip up in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

They crawled up his leg and then into his bottom

And there they did live in his innards quite rotten

For long was he dead in a battle forgotten

And now he’d returned for revenge

With such ants in his pants and a six rats in his bowels

He would walk through the night and quite hungry he howls

And a brain full of worms in control of his vowels

He would mumble for b-b–b-brains

He would seek little kids quite delicious and plump

With an eye full of spiders and a rather bug lump

On his face from the wasps than would sure make you jump

When they flew from his mouth like a storm

And his fingers quite rotten and tongue chewed away

Beetles covered his flesh and he strode night and day

To find children to eat who’d perhaps lost their way

and to hell drag their sweet little souls

Pink Poodles – March Prompts 18/31

Oh surely not…

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

Old Artemis Bilge fine purveyor of poodles

Loved them so much that he ate them with noodles

With fresh veg and soy sauce he scoffed oodles and oodles

and for pudding fresh strawberries and cream

He would slow roast a leg and eat it as a starter

With pickles and fennel and mustard or tartar

And sometimes on a sandwich with cheese and tomato

Licked his fingers, such tastes quite supreme

Late at night to his fridge he would head tummy rumbling

And with platters of neck, thigh and flank he’d head stumbling

Back to bed where he’d gorge ‘till his tummy stopped grumbling

Then to sleep and of poodles to dream

Mounds of Mush – March Prompts 17/31

Hopefully just 4 rather gross lines…

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

Seething writhing piles of rancid filth

Maggots thrash hungrily and gorge on rotting flesh

Where once there was life now putrification reigns

And death’s foul breath belches and cackles

Guzzling Gary – March Prompts 16/31

My what a big appetite you have.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

Guzzling Gary likes pies

And hes rather fond of meat

Oh he really loves chips

And thinks snake meat quite a treat

He will eat a bag of raddish

And he’ll quaff a pint of soup

See him down a foot of sausage

Eat spaghetti, straight or loop

He will neck a quart of ice cream

Followed by a glass of sherry

And eat burgers by the fistful

Followed by a pound of cherry

Then it’s onto quail and liver

Lightly braised and served with veg

And some monkey and a lizard

And a squirrel from a hedge

Then perhaps a baby llama

And a bisque made from some cats

And a stew made from some puppies

Or some dumplings stuffed with bats

Oh and see him eat a whale steak

And a platypus on rye

Lick the juices from a goldfish

And bake hamsters in a pie

And then turtle stuffed with budgies

then some parrots braised with figs

but for daft religious reason

theres no bacon, its from pigs

Stitches of Glitches – March Prompts 15/31

A quickie indeed.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

Crackle of interference

Space and time ripped asunder

And the night lights up lightning and thunder

Wormholes spin and fill the sky

And mothers scream and children run

Nowhere to go our time is done

And through swarm hordes of creatures dark

And feast on flesh and gnaw on bone

Like locusts into every home

Through glitch in time and space they’re drawn

They can’t be stopped they know no rest

‘till all’s devoured galaxies pest

Sun blotted out fields turned to red

And mankind wiped out in a blink

Like water swirling down the sink

Bootles Beetles – March Prompts 14/31

A witches curse…

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

Bootles beetles grubs and grime

Pinch of madness dash of time

What once was yours shall soon be mine

and you shall be distraught

A splash of envy, fist of hate

A ruptured spleen and twist of fate

Never on time and always late

In her web are you caught

And to her will you’ll surely bend

No stitch in time your soul to mend

And sadness is your only friend

So heed the lesson taught

Or you will find as time goes by

All will be lost in blink of eye

Your days to waste and lonely die

A life that’s lived for naught

Pouty and Plump – March Prompts 12/31

The poor lass.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

Once a fellow met twins

who embodied most sins

and he nicknamed them Pouty and Plump

One had full vacuum lips

and the other round hips

and they’d once spent a night with Don Trump

That’s about as far as I got in ten minutes. I toyed with all sorts of ideas and all I could manage was that and whilst it probably hasn’t gone too far yet it probably would have. Sometimes when I write the first idea I have is what makes it to the page and that idea can dominate to such an extent that no other will shift it and that was the case with this one.

The thing is, I made a conscious effort to remove the twat that is Donald from my writing a month or two ago now and apart from perhaps one or two slips have found myself in a much happier place because of it. I removed him from my twitter as best I could and made a real effort to simply not consider anything to do with him.

I am sure there are many arguments for and against my approach and I am sure they are all pretty compelling but for me, right now, I like ignorance. It is bliss after all.

Jelly Jars – March Prompts 12/31

Of all the things you hold most dear.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

There is a man with jelly jars

Keeps babies teeth and fallen stars

And virgins tears and la-de-das

And fathers best cigars

Into your home he sneaks at night

And steals the things you hold so tight

And harvests thought both dark and light

And steals them without fight

And when you wake it feels amiss

You cant remember your first kiss

You thought you had more cash than this

and fear replaces bliss

and so he steals your dreams and plans

and time and love holds in his hands

lets slip away like grains of sands

and returns to distant lands

Billowy Breezes – March Prompts 11/31

Truly scraping the bottom of the barrel here…I should be ashamed.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

There was once was a fellow called billowy breezes

His real name was Bob and he shits when he sneezes

So great is the force that it buckles his kneeses

And bent over he tends to explode

“Can’t be helped” he insists when he’s asked on the matter

One time at a wedding the bride he did splatter

Caked a kitty in turds left her fur quite in tatters

When one day he was crossing the road

If he’s sniffly at work folk will run and take cover

He once exploded so hard the filth knocked a man over

Hes quite famous, once painted the white cliffs of dover

After eating some chillis he’d growed

So watch out if you see him take care and beware

It not really his fault and yes people will stare

You should not walk behind him on the way up the stair

Just in case he happens to unload

Powder Blue – March Prompts 10/31

The poor lass.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

In powder blue a true delight

Her belly full her clothes quite tight

He knocked her up hes doing right

And marrying it seems

She loves him so, he thinks he might

Just love her back but late last night

He met this girl oh quite a sight

she quite fulfilled his dreams

well dreams may be a wee bit trite

they fondled in the pale moonlight

and to her place they headed right

and devious thoughts he schemes

And home at crack of new day light

inside he tries to tread so light

but she’s aware and now his plight

is far worse that it seems

He tries to lie but gets a fright

As on his neck she left a bite

no longer he her shining knight

Tears replace loves beams

A tisket for a tasket – March Prompts 9/31

Imagine it being sung as a nursery rhyme by a creepy little child as it plays with a broken doll.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

A tisket for a tasket throw your mother in a basket

Put the basket in the fire watch the flames as they grow high

A tisket for a tasket put the baby in the basket

Watch the baby sail away and then rule the land one day

A tisket for a tasket push the boat man in a basket

Put the basket in the river watch him drown and watch him shiver

A tisket for a tasket put the lover in a basket

Pop the basket in the pot serve the lover piping hot

A tisket for a tasket shove the father in the basket

Hang the basket from the tree watch him jig and dance with glee

A tisket for a tasket lay yourself down in the casket

Put the casket in the ground there you can’t make any sound.

Punch Drunk – March Prompts 8/31

Wincing, eyes blinking, afraid and never thinking

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

Wincing, eyes blinking

Afraid and never thinking

Using, abusing

just cover up the bruising

aching, shaking

giving never taking

violent, silent

need to be compliant

pretending, never ending

in time the flesh is mending

beneath covers, lost lovers

from this he won’t recover

Silly Assumptions – March Prompts 7/31

“Oh take care to assume
or to careless presume
that the world will still be there tomorrow…”

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

Oh take care to assume

or to careless presume

that the world will still be there tomorrow

for it could all just end

so wise up don’t pretend

as it could all just end in real sorrow

We could spin into the sun

Then we’d all be well done

And sun screen wont do no good at all

We could suffer a blast

From a meteor fast

Which would melt us in its fireball

Or a virus that turns

you to mush as it burns

your insides and they drip from your pores

Or a zombie infection

And your without protection

And your wife eats your brain while you snore

Perhaps creatures from space

Who would eat off your face

And lay eggs in your gut a foot long

And you’d burst at the seems

As young creatures burst free

And they feed on your corpse and grow strong

So take heed and beware

Live each day and take care

As today could well just be your last

You could die in your chair

No one find you and there

You’d be found, face chewed off by your cats

Hobbity Bobbity – March Prompts 6/31

“Samwise Gamgee squealed with delight his buttocks clenched quite tight…”

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

There was going to be a poem in response to the daily prompt and it was going to start like this:

“She was hobbit bobbity the queen of blow jobbity”

I then thought better. Not that it would not have been funny – to me at least – it would have, it is just that I don’t really want to besmirch the idea of the Hobbits with the idea of them overly sexual. Obviously they have hobbit loving but I hold them very dear and as a huge Tolkein fan would prefer to not imagine Pippin and Merry naked, eyes closed enjoying the oral pleasures of the afore mentioned blow jobbity.

You should thank me really because I am doing my very best not to ruin The Lord of the Rings for you by using sentences such as:

“Samwise squealed with delight his buttocks clenched quite tight…”

I realise that would be upsetting for some, and rightly so. No one wants to have to consider the fact that Frodo and dildo kind of rhyme, and god forbid they end up in a sentence such as “Loins on fire Mr Frodo, brandishing knobbly dildo, did approach…” That would just ruin your Sunday and I just would not want to do that .

So no need to thanks me, let’s just all breathe a collective sigh of relief that this is most definitely not a gratuitously filthy piece about Gandalf’s staff…

Creaky Cranks – March Prompts 5/31

Not really sure what its about, I only had ten minutes…

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

The cranks that creak they get the oil

creation running smooth

The cogs that whir the chimneys belch

The pistons thrust, wheels move

Red lights burn bright, see furnace blaze

Hear click and clank and whir

It trundles slowly through the night

Black smoke it fills the air

Atop he rides his dour machine

Colleting souls for fuel

Wheels turn, cranks pull and push and thrust

Boned finger pointed, cruel

With oil that’s squeezed from those he finds

He greases, handles turned

His cogs and pulleys, back and forth

Remains discarded, burned

To fuel his creature, through the dark

In search of those who stray

From light to dark and pledge themselves

Until the end of days

Fidgety Fiona – March Prompts 4/31

Ooh you better stay away from that Fiona…

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

Fidgety Fiona

Was a groaner

And a moaner

And the sort of girl your mother wouldn’t like

She would tease

And she would please

And she would have you on your knees

And then maybe she would ride you like a bike

She was never sated

Though many men she dated

While some others sat and waited

Hoping maybe soon it might just be their turn

But soon it went awry

And Fiona she did die

And the men all wondered why

And soon they were a ghastly truth to learn

For it seems Fiona sweet

The dark darling of the street

In the air often her feet

On the corner her wares eagerly parades

And the men she satisfied

Very soon withered and died

And their wives gnashed teeth and cried

For Fiona gave them syphilis and aids

Purple Nurples – March Prompts 3/31

He comes bearing gifts from the new world…

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

He’s the king of the seas, he explores for the queen

And her court they await his delights

He amazes and thrills and his deeds pay the bills

And he looks so damned good in those tights

With a flourish and swirl he appears to the court

Women love him and men think he’s great

Walter Reighleigh’s no match for his most recent catch

And the Queen and her court congregate

Says Victoria “Do tell, your gift would do most well

To compare to My Walters potato

For it brings me delight so must yours here tonight

else they’ll lop off your head at my say so”

So he reached for his bag and the court fell quite still

It was velvet and plush and quite purple

And he reached deep inside and with face filled with pride

He pulled out a quite fab pair of nurple

The court gasped quite amazed and the clapped and they raved

Such a sight they had not before seen

He approached to the throne with the pair quite full grown

And presented his gifts to the queen

With their bright bush tails and their thick purple scales

And long legs and short arms and pink hair

And their bellies quite round and their low gurgling sound

It was surely a breath taking pair.

“Oh how quite wondrous” she said making a fuss

And she held them, and seemed most excited

Walt’s potatoes forgot, and right there on the spot

To his knees and was by the Queen knighted

Galloping Gadzooks – March Prompts 2/31

In celebration at the end of a rather serious February

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

A band of men of dubious past together off to war

to fight the Hun, face Prussian gun and drink and laugh and whore

Into the breach they gladly surge and willingly they lead

to sate desire and feel alive for King and kin they bleed

Their leader ,fearless Jack O’Rourke a fallen catholic priest

now filed with rage and whisky fuelled and dining at war’s feast

His right hand Man Old Jock McCann thrice married thrice bereaved

they died of natural causes if his tales they are believed

The twins, Siamese, dead shots for sure and none that can compare

kills in the high three hundreds and you’ll never know they’re there

Tom Sparrow, mute, his tongue cut out stands silently with poise

and Taylor, prim and proper, college type who loves young boys

With Jones and Simpson hired guns just in it for the coin

and Mason dark of skin and heart and fierce with fist and loin

a band of brothers, horse astride you wont see in your books

but through the bloodied hell of war rode The Galloping Gadzooks

Hippie Harbour – In the Dark 16

Just a thing about a thing and some other things which ends badly…

Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead. I did them all in December but was less successful in January. Let’s see how we do in February shall we.

You can see the prompts here.

Theres a place made for folk of a kind

Who are carefree and pleasant you’ll find

But they don’t like to bath

And are quite fond of hash

And all substance to alter the mind

But…

All is not quite as it may appear

and possessed both of rage and of fear

their minds twisted and torn

by a pathogen born

in the weed and their lovely brewed beer

So…

Late at night when they ought to be humping

through their veins a dark need is fast pumping

and their hearts turned quite black

and they frenzied attack

driven wild on their neighbours they’re jumping

then…

and they rip and they tear quite asunder

and they feast on red flesh neath the thunder

and the lightning above

for they now only love

to devour, feast and bath in death’s wonder

now…

So the moral it seems is beware

if you travel there then just take care

Hippie harbour you’ll see

here the love isn’t free

there’s a cost you might pay, should you dare