Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

A twisted crescendo bathed in blood, a violent viola swagged in mud, simplicity a weapon, separation a sin, suicidal denial, without a within, structure and purpose, dissolution a disease, rerouted in disillusionment, segregated in sin, your wickedness I saw, your sap I did taste, for tomorrow now yesterday, and today a long way away, forget the past, ignore what will be, as I lay down beside you, as I thrust myself all in, like a river I erode all you are, beneath my seed of sin…