Eyes will not turn away
Concealing light creates its seekers
Learning truth comes with a heavy price
Irises burn to milky white
Prophets are not welcome in their hometown
Scillitan Martyrs are born not made
End of these festering days
About the Creator
Aaron Morrison
Writer. Artist. I write horror primarily, but dabble in other genres here and there.
Influenced by Poe, Hawthorne, Ligotti, John Carpenter, and others.
Everyone has a story to tell.
Author of Miscellany Farrago
instagram: @theaaronmorrison
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Eye opening
Niche topic & fresh perspectives
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
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More stories from Aaron Morrison and writers in Poets and other communities.
“Women, Beauty in Old Age”, dedicated to all middle-aged and elderly women
Many people, even women themselves, feel that when a woman reaches old age, her face will age, her figure will be out of shape, and she will be old and pale, which is really desolate.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing5 days ago in Poets
The Road to Nowhere
Trigger warnings: Violence, Death. "May the Sun burn your tongue out, woman," Fredrick's father screamed the curse into his mother's ear as their elegant little carriage rumbled along, its polished wood and gilded trim glinting in the torchlight. They had just left the small village of Saffron and were on an unnamed road to the capital for the Royal wedding. Fredrick leaned back in his plush velvet seat to escape into the passing landscape, but across from him sat the servant boy, a scrappy lad named Jack. Jack's eyes held a mixture of awe and fear, the kind that only a commoner could feel in the presence of nobility. Jack looked up and caught Fredrick's gaze, offering him a sad little smile before reaching into his pocket and retrieving a little caramel treat. This candy was no doubt stolen from the kitchen treat cupboard; if he was caught with it, he would be locked in the box as punishment.
By Frank English4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
Beautiful!
I never heard of Scillitan Martyrs either - good poem in which to add them!
Scillitan Martyrs - I had never heard of them until I read this. Thanks! And I love your title!