Jitter Issue #4
The Canker of Stars Grown Black
Midnight arrived like the damp chillOf some awful prophecy that was violently fulfilledSwaddled in thick layers of a night drained of all colorAnd pungent with the aroma of mighty groansThe air shivered mysterious and curiousWith a musty smell like unknown herbsThe hours became long and deathly quietUntil the dawn tinted with the drippingOf crimson blood became minutes tangled upIn the skeleton of horrors beyond countingWhile the moonlight held its breathJust above the mummified riverLike an aqua blue ageless handWearing a scarab ring to signifyIts dominion over conquered lands.Ken L. Jones