Markey Mark Symmonds army, Blog, Blogger, bomb, flash fiction, poem, Poetry, political, short story, Uncategorized, underground

Agents of Darkness

The agents of darkness strike again inflicting misery death and pain. Plots to kill injure and maim all don in a dark Lords name. The dark Lords weave their evil across their Web, recruiting its agents brainwash their heads.

Lords of darkness agents of death, wreaking havoc on the enlightened, running Scared and Frightened as the Chase To find The Dark Agents tightens, dark agents’ operations heighten. Lords of darkness creating a mess, from an unknown address, you send your agents to do your Dirty deeds up and down the country where ever they need.

Cowards in the extreme, make women and children scream how can they be so mean. Dark agents hoping they will never be seen, to die they are so keen, to be free they don’t know what it means, carnage and mayhem at the scene, under what stone have you been. Oh, agents of darkness who are in such a mess they cause such distress, now we have to clean up this mess.

Don’t snuff out the light, keep up the fight, the agents of darkness know their plight. Hunt them down, take their malice and spite. For we will not bow or give up the fight to live in a country the way we know is right. Lords of darkness you will get bored, why don’t you weald your own sword and stop preaching a fraud? |To defeat the agents of darkness light must come to shine on us all night

Markey Mark Symmonds army, Blog, Blogger, bomb, Boots, flash fiction, lost, love, poem, Poetry, political, short story, Uncategorized, underground

Deserted Street

Men and boys say good bye all know the reason why. Called up to serve in a war they don’t deserve on the front line, not reserves. Whole Streets fighting together as a regiment. Swathes of streets empty of men who will never return. Desolate streets no dads to greet, no sons to hug mums, just dear Johns, to all the friends you meet.

Workers side by side, they all came for the same ride, work as a team one unbreakable seam, and go down with a scream. Waste of men and boys who will never know life, but briefly met strife. No guns fired or fixed Bayonet charge, the enemy is still at large. Longing for home, their bed and clean sheets, seeing their families again and walking down those deserted streets.

In their heads, their family implanted safe return not taken for granted. Over the top their turn to drop, an entire street, downed by men from an unpronounceable town. Leaving heart ache in a deserted English Street. Mothers cry, children wonder why, when the officer drops by house after house on the same Street, tears and sadness at each one they meet, finally leaving the deserted Street.

Markey Mark Symmonds Blog, Blogger, bullying, death, flash fiction, lost, Mental Health, poem, Poetry, short story, sleep, Uncategorized, underground

Tight Space

Tied and bound in a small room tall enough to stand but not enough to turn, escape I yearn, ropes start to burn as I wriggle and twist and turn, in discern. Dark place, no space, just me and the fear of closed in space, darkness in front of my face sets my brain running a pace.  Panic sets in as I wriggle and squirm to try to get free from this room so wee. Exhaustion follows as super human effort does not succeed and my wrists start to bleed, my mind starts to plead. 

Then there is a bang a chink of light cutting the dark of night. In through the top comes a piece of meat, raw and not fit to eat. I scream, the lid slams shut, trapped in a box like a mutt. I smell the meat it’s raw, gathering dust on the floor, I start to heave with every breath I draw, desperately wanting to find a door. 

I decide not to eat, my body starts to ask for a treat, water needed but none about, I dream of a beer if I get out. My body is weak my thirst is bleak, I may not even last a week. I may be caged in body but am free in mind able to think and go into my mind. I think of nice things of better days, reciting lines from films and plays. I loose track of all the days, just sitting there staring a gaze. Flies start to swarm like gnats before the storm. Putrid food rotting on the floor, smell a fowl stench of rotting flesh and decay. I lean on the wall waiting for what’s at the end of it all, given up hope of getting away, in this box I must spend my last days. Hallucinations come and go in the dark, madness tearing me apart. My body week and breaking down thirst and dehydration come around. I close my eyes and wait for coma to descend and my body to meet this tragic end. 

Markey Mark Symmonds Blog, Blogger, cave, flash fiction, lost, poem, Poetry, short story, underground

Underground

Lost in a cave underground, over a hill and under a mound. Darkness is my biggest fear and everything that I can hear. I am unarmed no gun nor spear, just me and the cave and plenty of fear. Dark cloaks me so I cannot see, my lantern is dead it’s just dark and me. Moving forward as fast as I dare, not knowing where, not going back further down there

I crawl along on my hands and knees feeling all the rocks and gullies. One wrong move and I’m over the edge, perched upon a tiny ledge. Water dripping on my head, oh how I want to be in my warm bed. Ice cold rock so slippery and wet, I haven’t gone 10 feet yet.

Spiders webs entwine my face, I wave them away with great haste. Time stands still at this slow pace, dirt and grime all over my face. Then up ahead, did I see light? I rub my eyes to check I am right. My knees are so raw, my hands are so cold, I’ve been here for hours, I hope someone has told.

Echoes and scurrying all around as rats and insects run on the ground. I push on up the ledge, not daring to get to near the edge. The light gets brighter the hole may be big, I cannot scurry as I am too big. I lay on my stomach as the roof closes in, through the letterbox I wriggle in. I can see light ultra-bright streaming in from a height.

I hall myself up with all my mite, heading towards the beam that cuts the night. Lighter and brighter the cave starts to get, I get excited and start to fret, I need to calm down I’m not out yet. The last part of the ledge is full of grime but I can stand up and make better time. I head to the light as fast as I dare, wondering if anyone will be there.