The Scene of the Crime...

The scene of the crime was a garish red and
nightmarish and bled. There were bodies & corpses
of bodies everywhere. In the dark garden. The sides and
thighs were engorged in bowels and oozing. Rot gut
adorned sickeningly the luxuriant altars of Fate and
Beauty. There were no winds. Only deadly silence & stench
of the massacre festered and stormed the haunted air.
Screamingly. Slitheringly. The temple of self lay in dregs
like torn deathgrounds of some horrific battle. Oblivion,
smoldering. Ah. The face of the murder crossed borders &
traversed lands, cultures and Worlds of destinies. Loves.
The killers were rogue and mercenary & crushed
and splintered the bones of the dead and the
forests and fields of azure under boot heels
of black boots; steel toed & leather. Chaos
reigned. Who will forgive me?

Even little creatures were

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