Sunday, 14 September 2025

The split veil

 


I heard creaking bones,

guttural moans. Pain in my ears

from the sudden drop in the wind.

Pressure screamed

like a kettle left upon

the scorching flames of a hob

left unattended long after

the world had been and gone.

I looked outside, peering through my own fear.

Through the veiled window

into the misty night.

Something didn't feel right.

Whispers were crawling

through the dead flowers

left by the gravesides.

There was something strange

gripping the night,

as the blades of grass edged away

from the weird tinge of the light.

There was another sound

carried on the moonlight

which spoke only in forced lies.

 

The wind motioned,

beckoned, called me over,

speaking gently through

my bedroom window. I invited it in.

The curtains breathed. In then out.

I felt my fear creeping about

and into the darkness my sanity fled.

Screaming.

I was hearing...

The songs of the dead,

a lullaby for the dying.

The sound was welcoming them,

asking them to follow to their new home.

A pied piper made of bone,

luring memory vapour away

somewhere unknown.

 

I wasn’t supposed to see this,

my mortal eyes were prised open.

Big and wide.

I was seeing directly into the other side.

The veil had split,

the observable universe unravelled

piece by piece. Bit by bit.

And I saw.

I saw...

It.

The personification of evil.

It wasn’t gone.

It had been hiding

in the shadows all along.

I saw the hum

and my mind froze in an instant.

 

I couldn't move,

I couldn't run.

I just had to look on.

I saw his armies.

Oh. Those armies.

So many beings.

Ready. Waiting.

My brain was numb

like a limb you have been laying upon,

and the pins and needles

have been and gone,

leaving behind just a dead weight.

I could only wait

like the dead lying in state

awaiting some even more devastating fate.

 

And then as quickly as it had begun.

The vision split,

it dripped out of the atmosphere

like a raindrop from a clear sky.

Replaced by the outside air.

Replaced by the morning sun.

Was this a warning, a trial run?

Was the hum really there,

or was my mind losing

its grasp onto a reality

that never really seemed to care.

 

 




Thanks for reading
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Kyle
 
All work copyright - Kyle Coare  

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