Tenebris – A Kiss Worth Dying For



Featured art by Markus A. Walter. Click title image to visit his studio.



Listen to Suggested Audio


Goblin “Buio Omega”





I pour myself another glass of whiskey
Not the cheap shit
The good stuff
Only the very best for such a grand occasion
Actually, it’s more of a celebration kind of deal
Which would explain why my eyes are a little misty
You can frisk me if you wish but I should warn you in advance
I get a little pissy when tipsy


Besides, I missed the part that said I have to declare shit without my attorney present
Oh, have we not arrived at that part yet?
Well, you’re in for a real thigh slapper when we do
For I intend to burn with phosphorescence
That is, once we’re done with all the pleasantries


Know this
Get too close and you could well be on something of a sticky wicket
I’m quite clearly not the full ticket
You can tell that from the thick grime beneath my nails
If the eyes don’t get you first
Been told they can be a little intense
When I’ve got the wind in my sails


Let’s just say I’m not the type to get knocked down by a feather
I’m colorless
And volatile like ether
One hand on the lever
As I send two thousand volts to some place better
Don’t go sweating the technique
You should be able to see from my physique
That I’m a shapeshifter
Or had that escaped your attention?
It’s not that I didn’t see fit to mention it
I’m doing so now, aren’t I?
Well, that and seeping into your pores like black mist and polluting your blood


Do I look like I might be bluffing?
Listen, let me tell you a secret
There ain’t nothing I won’t do to get my fix of sticks and stones
I would say they may well break your bones
But it is my words which can really hurt you
Convert your ideals into steel traps
Stab my dagger in your cunt and twist the blade until you prolapse
For maximum discomfort
Then feed my cat the scraps
She’ll like that


At any rate, we appear to be veering some way off the beaten track
So what say we dial things back to M for murder?
Make a real picnic of it
For murder is very much on the agenda this night
Anything less would be a waste of good whiskey
And I do hate to waste good whiskey


That being said, it’s actually a kiss I came for
My lips you can blame for the sudden change of pace
You’d do the very same if you knew what hangs back in the shadows
Right now, I’m teasing it out
As I wish to stand face to face with pure darkness
Pull it in close so it can smell the scotch on my breath
And slide on the harness


I want its hands all over me
As I finger each pocket of blackness
With an exactness that should enlighten as to my pedigree
Evidently not every mental sickness is hereditary
And I pounce with elemental quickness
So you’d do well not to discredit me
For once the shadows have their way with me
I plan to act up disgracefully
With maybe just a slither of complacency
As I floss the gristle from my teeth with the central veins of your liver
Get absurd like the proverbial runt of the litter
Then erupt as I deliver on the severance


Horrid ain’t I?
Perhaps I am
At least to the untrained eye
But should you wish to ascertain my motivation on this night
Then one look into mine should supply you the answer
You see, one doesn’t navigate the left-hand path
Just to kick daisies
Many attempt to speculate but their lazy observations are seldom anything but hazy


Went to see the doctor and he needed no second opinion to deduce that I’m thoroughly crazy
He said no offence
I told him none taken
This does not faze me
Went on to tell him that he may feel a pinch
Then I flayed his sorry sheath from the ivory beneath
And wrote him a script for morphine suppositories
Figured he’d be needing them


Mind if I pour myself another whiskey?
Thirsty work thrashing
All this talk of dispatch has me wishing to snatch at the height of grotesque fashion
With this kind of aggressive passion
I could start my own range
The catwalk would be some meat parade, let me tell you


Should I go catching any snapping paparazzi
Then I shall reveal my Third Reich Nazi
Make them my next science project
What’s a little nerve transplantation between friends?
Besides, I get to try out their zoom lens
For there is no end of fun to be had setting trends
Okay, I come clean
It’s the artist in me


Right now, my lips are pursed
For just one charmed embrace with this cursed suitor of mine
Have received visitation time and time again
And I never had any intention of abstaining
Not when there is a new skin to be paraded in
I’m afraid to say that I am all out of restraint
So, for as delightfully quaint as this has been
I’m just about all out of whiskey
Come dark one
I’m right here wearing nothing whatsoever but Cimmerian shade
Now go ahead
Kiss me






Richard Charles Stevens


Keeper of The Crimson Quill



greykeeper fusion headline


Click here to purchase on Amazon



© Copyright: Rivers of Grue™




  1. I love the fact that when I was up in the Savage Vault I thought I would die a bloody and horrid death, but in the same breath your dark-tomb felt like a home from home. I would like to take this opportunity to thanks you, Big Brother for letting me step into you Fortress of Solitude; and allowing me to live to tell the tale.

If you like what you've seen & read please feel free to share your thoughts with us!

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.