{"sf1_id":1419779,"sf2_id":"yndgAENm","title":"Monster Veil","author":"Mantrid_Brizon","words":180,"posted_at":"2019-02-09T15:39:00.000Z","tags":["Blood","Dark","Demon","Devil","Evil","Fear","Gore","Graveyard","Halloween","Hell","Horror","Monster","No-Yiff","Pain","Poem","Poetry","Rhyme","Rhyming","Story","Supernatural","Torture","Undead","Violence","Violence (Not In Yiff)","cemetery","grave","spiritual","zombie"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1419779-monster-veil","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/yndgAENm","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/7e/80/7e8055b7-66b8-4c4e-8973-02b3d6e400f0","description":"#25 of Poetry\n\nThis poem is specifically attempting an explanation at why every person and animal who's buried in the Micmac Indian burial ground of \"Pet Sematary\" returns evil.\nNote: My only true literary influences are H.P. Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe; I love making use of rarely used and/or outright archaic words to describe things, which may require the brief use of a Websters dictionary.","content":"Monster Veil\n\n(02/09/2019)\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nSleep eternal, burned infernal,\n\nCut the cob, remove the kernel,\n\nDying light, endless flight,\n\nThis, a most horrendous plight,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nStalking beast, skulking east,\n\nOf all emotions, love's the least,\n\nImportant now, I wonder how,\n\nThe Devil's field of souls are plowed,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nRaping mind, tortured kind,\n\nNothing good in Hell you'll find,\n\nRescue me, hear my plea,\n\nYour world I can no longer see,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nSealed box, broken vox,\n\nPulling torment like an ox,\n\nSorrow's rife, constant strife,\n\nDig me up, renew my life,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nSpoken word, it's not absurd,\n\nExtinguish fires that I've incurred,\n\nForming gneiss, scalding ice,\n\nTake the chance and roll the dice,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nShift beneath, scarring heath,\n\nAs I rise, I fell the wreath,\n\nBreaking ground, heart that pounds,\n\nEnter your world, my second round,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nBut evil's stint, a deep imprint,\n\nStrikes me like a steel to flint,\n\nUncontrolled, depths untold,\n\nMy darkened heart slowly unfolds,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nGiving in, a twisted grin,\n\nIndulging in most every sin,\n\nSinging songs, while killing throngs,\n\nYou now know why I came back wrong.\n\n  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"Poetry","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1400158-the-ballad-of-drunken-santa.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1442418-shapely-cow.json"}}