The steel of the grey in his eyes
Steadfast in their terror inspiring stare
Gaze grippingly at which others overlook
The smile of that young cashier
The discontent of that ticket taker
The greed in that child’s crying eyes
The virtue in that painted girl
Remains lost on those without his sight
Widespread chaos across this county fair
This playground for alcohol fueled
And over sugared children of every age
Fantasies in thin rubber
Balloons of every shade
Held by menacing creatures
With blood red features
Dead and trampled grass
Reveal it’s muddy bliss
Immortalizing each passing footprint
For a moment
Only to be forgotten
With each passing step
The Traveler sees it all
Through filters only he knows
And judges each soul using only his logic
Watching and waiting for the perfect end to his day
When he will drift into the woods just beyond this place
Carrying a prize of his own
To lay his roots of pain and torment
And watch through their fading eyes
As another summer day passes by
Archive | April 2014
The Traveler – The Beginning – Part Two by Linda V
She surprised him with her heaviness
As he dragged her to the garden
Deep in the lush late summer woods
Arms entwined like dancers
He dragged her over log and bump
And laid her by the spot he chose
Her broken skull shifted and caught his gaze
He stroked her blood matted hair away
From the pigment free eyes staring back at him
Haunted and empty much like his soul
He stood over her shovel in gloved hands
That would dig her final place
She would find no rest here
Just dark sticky earth to melt within
Time would cause her flesh to dissolve
And leave only traces in her bones behind
The Traveler would be her only visitor
Unwelcomed in the scream of her silence
He would not be there to mourn for her
Like those small town gossips who told her tale
One of selfish youthful need
That chased her from this one horse town
Never knowing she was steps from home
Just below the darkness of his gaze
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The Traveler – The Beginning Part One by Linda V
His first one was the one he saw
In his mind’s eye
Under darkness of night
Or before the moment
He picked the next item for his garden
The blood ran down her face
Like a river flowing out to sea
Rushing to join the other streams
In puddles of thick red darkness
The axe was stuck hard
In the back of her dainty skull
Holding her brain and veins apart
And straining itself to stay that way
His hands wriggled the handle
Now bloodied, soaked and slipping
Cracking bone as it came free
Splattering the ceiling with her life
For a moment she remained standing
Silently frozen in suspended animation
Then crumpled to the ground
His only regret remained
Not bearing witness to her confusion and terror
Her life escaping when she couldn’t escape him
From then on face to face
Was the only way it would be done
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The Traveler – Part Twenty Three – by Linda V
Weakened in all the right places
The floor beneath the Travelers feet
Creaks and strains below his gait
Blood soaked and broken corpses
Wait complacently to be planted
In the damp crawl space below
While white crisp snow freezes ground
Only the sweet hope of Spring
Will allow the earth to yield to his shovel
Digging down just far enough
To cover the secrets and lies
Their eyes sit forever open
That last look of terror staring out
Soon to be forever blinded by black earth
And kept from the light
With only the birds above as witness
The smell of rotting flesh
Makes him long for the road
Makes him yearn for the journey
Makes him giddy for darkness
After this planting season is done
Long after their faces blend into
Macabre muddy portraits in his mind’s eye
He will carry them with him
While he hunts the highways again
bluefalling 