HEART IN A JAR

Omnibus in foro S.P.D.

Rest in pieces. ❤ Belleen

 

Heart In A Jar 09/27/2017

You killed me,

over and over,

Left me to die,

 

Or so you thought,

Was that your last wish?

To see me break?

How the mighty hath fallen,

Into the traps of emotion,

I loved you,

You loved me,

I hate thee,

You loathe me,

This game I cease to play,

To Whom It May Concern,

Know this for now and ever more,

This is my conscious no longer caged in bondage,

This is my spirit free from love’s torment,

You see before you what lies in the glass jar,

my ever beating heart.

©2017 T.B. Morte

 

 

 

 

 

 

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YOUR DARK DOLLY

Omnibus in foro S.P.D.

A toast good populace! Cheers to Tragedienne may she one day find the dark solitude of happiness.  She so rightfully deserves.

 

YOUR DARK DOLLY

Admit to me my master,

Who’s your darkest dolly?

You need not to say it to others,

you need not to say it out loud,

I’m your dark dolly,

I do what the others cannot,

you know I go that extra mile,

I give it my all,

When the whip strikes flesh,

You know I squeal in pleasure,

And give it my best,

So I apologize to you Master,

Please excuse my mess,

But the other dollies had to go,

So I made them say goodbye,

And I now I have these piles of bodies,

Your dolly just now wants to cry,

We’re all alone now Master,

Don’t you see?

It’s just you and me,

And there’s no one else around,

To make three.

© T.B. Morte 2017

 

 

 

The Entreating Chronicles#1 “THE QUIBBLE QUASMS OF BELLE MORTE”

Omnibus in foro S.P.D.

Greetings fellow spooks & ghouls.  Some random short pieces I decided to put together as possible ongoing compilation of “shorties” its a new year.  Time for a new outlook.  Enjoy the following tidbits.  As always feedback appreciated.

Pax,

Bone Mother Belleen ❤

 

I.

“Forgiveness. The scale you measure of the hurtful act that was done to be measured against the something that you love. There was a moment of falter, a cut so deep the impenetrable became the penetrated. The emotion of true sorrow felt so fluid embedded into entire psyche. If you love something you must love its evil as well as it’s innocence. To love only one part, one cannot love truly. You must accept the wiles,observe the hurt and measure the scale consciously. Forgiveness and love you must embrace to the bitterest of ends” ~T. B. Morte  © 2017~

 

II.

“What is black? A color so deep and engulfing it swallows light whole. Born from the shadows, nothing can be seen inside it. So black are the hearts of the fallen the weak are unable to fathom loving them. So dark were the souls of the broken the brave could not help but love them against all odds.”~ T.B. Morte © 2017 ~

 

III.

“Love your Hero, and love them well. For they have the spirit of giants and the bravery of fools. They will love what they endear so brutally, they will avenge any slight against them at all costs. They will carry you upon a broken back, they will be your shield, they will be your iron cladded will and word. But if you were to mock the love the Hero gives, you have foolisheartedly committed a most heinous act. You have broken their spirit. The hero then can no longer sing with shine, the song is now tainted, darkness slowly encrypted. The fool must now think of the catastrophe they have unleashed. They have morphed the Hero into a Villain.” ~T.B. Morte © 2017~

The Story of Darkness: (Vol. III of “The Seven”) “Why Darkness Wept”

Omnibus in foro S.P.D.

Another bone for the garden.

Pax,

Belleen

The  Story of Darkness: (Vol. III of “The Seven”) “Why Darkness Wept”

The crowd of mourners sang the lines to the song “Amazing Grace” as if they were in true mourning.  Almost and just almost as if they knew the true meaning of grief.  These poor unfortunate souls knew nothing about grieving.  They knew nothing what its like to face loss over and over again.  Over a lifetime, over centuries, over a entire millennia.

She watched as the coffin was being lowered to the dark hole of the ground.  Six feet below to be exact.  This was not the first time she attended a funeral nor would it be her last most likely.  As the tears streamed down her face.  She could not help but weep. No one within the crowd of people bothered to comfort her- not even ask if she was okay.  It was as if she was not there.  While the Priest gave the final sacraments  giving safe passage for the body in the coffin.  To make its final voyage into the next world.

“Ashes to Ashes, Dust to dust.”  The Priest chanted.

She squeezed her eyes tightly as the tears kept going. She knew this would be over very very soon.  For funerals are never prolonged.  Its a short service, body gets buried, and people are supposed to move on with their lives.  You are not supposed to be remember the dead.

Today she buried her very last human descendant.  Her very last great-grandchild  so many times removed she did not bother to count.  It did not matter to her. They were a part of her bloodline. The blood of her blood, sprung forth from her set of children. As time stretched over the span of years, she watched over them, loved and protected even from afar.  She did the best that she could and yet it was not enough for she could not stop the inevitable.  No matter how in the early years she would beg.  She could not stop death even if she were a daughter of “Immortality”.  Death the cruel hearted thing it was stopped for no one.

And so now she grieved openly with no remorse.  She was the only one of seven sisters to gain the blessing to bear children.  Only to lose them to the hands of death.  It was a blessing and a curse.  Her wish was granted at a high price.  No sacrifice to small she had foolishly thought in her misspent youth.  If only she could turn back the passages of time and chose to remain childless.

The circumstances surrounding the death of her descendant were circumspect. He had been murdered most viciously.  Which to her dug the wound even more deep.  His life had not been claimed by old age with a life truly fulfilled. He was still young just barely a grown man.  He never got the chance to start a family or strive for a career.  He would never get the opportunity to fall in love or suffer heartache.  Everything had been taken away from her grandson too early by someone else. That someone was going to truly pay they would never know misery until now that is all that individual will ever know.

The crowd had finally dwindled to where only one had remained at the grave site.  He was tall, dark, smokey eyed, would have been handsome in normal circumstances. He carried the demeanor of one who spent time in the shadows.  She knew all about the shadows.  Its rumored she created them after all.  He stared at her with a look of fascination.

“You look just like him.” Said the man in the shadows.

“We were related.”

“His sister perhaps?”  As he edged closer.

“If you would like to think so.”

“You must be.  You look too much alike.  Do you have a name dear woman?”

“I am Darkness.” She said silently.

“Elakhet.  My name is Elakhet.”

“An usual name for unusual beauty.”

Darkness did not like where this was heading.  She decided to do something she very rarely did.  She used just a vein of power.  Just a small tap to reach into the psyche of the stranger.  His memories flooded into her like a tidal wave almost causing her to lose balance.  Through the images she saw what she dreaded.  The stranger killing her grandchild. This set a wave of anger through her which could not unquelled.  She would have her vengeance and she would have it now.

“It is also unusual for the killer to attend the funeral of his victim.”

If looks could kill then Darkness would truly be struck dead. The stranger turned angrily towards her.  Darkness boldly gave him a playful smirk. She was not afraid of him, for she had seen bigger and badder enemies.

“Had to make sure he was laid to rest.  You know what they say Dead men tell no tales.  And like your brother you know too much. Pity because you’re such a pretty little thing.” The stranger growled as he approached closer.

“Pity because I would hate to see you die. Actually scratch that. I am rather looking forward to it.” Darkness purred back.

What the stranger did not realize that there was three women standing behind him. The sisters of darkness all clad in black.The twins Vanity & Envy who blew Darkness kisses. The oldest sister who Darkness most adored.  Her oldest sibling looked at Darkness solemnly.  Envy in a playful gesture blew in the ear of the stranger causing him to turn around his eyes grew wide in curiousity.

“Peekaboo.” Envy squealed.

Vanity, Envy, and along with the oldest formed a circle around the man who had no name. Circling him like a pack of hungry wolves.  Darkness knew what was to come.  She held no regrets save the fact that she could not dish out justice herself.  For her oldest sister would never allow her to interfere most unfortunately.

“My beloved Torment.” Darkness said in a husky tone.

“My sweet Darkness.”  Torment responded in a softer voice as she continued talking to Darkness directly.

“Forever the grieving Mother my sister.”

“Am I any other way my sister?” Bitterly Darkness asked.

“No you are not. Yet I will still ask how can I salve your heart?”

“I have no heart.”

“Sister let us make it better.” Vanity cooed.

Torment reached with a gloved hand to caress the strangers face. As she cocked her head towards Darkness “His life then?”

“Aye.  His life.”

“You have never asked me of this before.”

Darkness looked at Torment and a smile passed between the two sisters.  They had always been close as children and even over the eons of time their bond had never severed.

“Sister will you avenge me?” Darkness pleaded.

The stranger who had unusually taken a nonchalant stance regarding his soon to be fate. Looked at the four women quite bemused.  “As if you have what it takes to kill me.”  He mocked.

Vanity, Envy, and Torment removed matching Desert Eagles equipped with silencers from their trench coats. The death sisters carried guns that assassins used which in truth was no surprise.  The stranger now very wide eyed tried to take a step back waving his hands frantically.

“I’m not fond of guns on principle.  But they get the job done when it is necessary.” Spoke  Torment as she lifted her gun to meet her target. She motioned the Twins to ready themselves as well.

The stranger decided to foolishly try and outrun the wave of bullets.

“Rest.” Torment began.

“In.” Vanity followed.

“Peace.” Envy finished.

In matching symmetry their guns fired. Bullets hit the back of the strangers head, his heart, and also his stomach. The stranger fell to the ground oddly enough landing on the grave of the grandchild of Darkness.  When it was done Darkness herself approached the body of the stranger to close his now very dead eyes.

“Requiscat in pace.” Darkness spat.

While she turned to join her sisters so they could flee the now crime scene.  Darkness gave a farewell to her last descendant.  She carefully wiped away a crop of fresh tears, while the blood of the stranger flowed into the loams of the earth.

©2015  From “The Seven Interlogues”  by T.B. Morte

The Seven

Omnibus in SPD Foro:

The Bone Mother returns with fresh bones for the garden.  The inspiration for this is a bit unknown but my Muse whispered these sweet words into my ear.  Please enjoy the scribings and give feedback.

Regards,

Tragedienne

The Seven 09/20/2015

When “Darkness” she wept- even in the dead shades of day she wept. There was nothing to ease the pain no balm to soothe over an already charred heart. Only the ice left in her veins gave the comfort to continue to tread on.

There was “Silence” as she stood in the silhouette of the hallowed halls. Ignored as she stood in plain view but no one ever noticed her. Bright as the cosmic stars her glow began to fade slowly until there nothing left but a bare whisper. It was not until she had fled to the corner where she was finally noticed. Too late to redeem Silence no longer had the desire to speak.

Forever the playful “Regret” paid a dear price for being carefree. Thought to be the most adored, she walked about to and fro without calamity. Once so beloved by her one true love, her fall from grace was most tragic. Once the wife now forever someone’s mistress.

Dear sweet twins “Envy & Vanity” had a tumultuous relationship. Taking sibling rivalry to its greatest extent. Envy always wanted what Vanity had. Vanity tried to love her twin but could only love herself- incapable of loving others. Vanity loved herself so in turn Envy loved only Vanity.

Willful “Pride” was considered the stubborn one. Unbent, unbroken, and untamed. Her spirit contained a supernova of fire, wind, and fury. Her beauty matched her fiery temper. Many tried to quell the flames and all failed leaving Pride lonely and left to face the flames alone.

There was a something so dark and sinister -she was only summoned for vengeful purposes. They called her “Torment” a banshee of many forms her expertise was to avenge others by any means necessary. Through the halls you could hear Torment’s wail-her battle cry that could make blood freeze and stop one’s heart cold. She would avenge her sisters and all of their wrongs. For being a professional killer was the only thing she knew-the only thing she was good at. Was destruction.

©2015  T.B. Morte