Let the Deciding Be
A Twisted Verse by Matthew Tonks
A wish that strayed too far into the dark,
where sickness fed and wild dogs left their mark.
Breaths foul and stinking of the rot and dead,
eyes swollen wide, mouths gaping, garbage fed.
Forgive me now — I see the things I said,
roses, gardens, grounds dug deep in mud and red.
We are the things we dread and fear to see,
we haunt, we hunt, we swallow endlessly.
Another mirror staring back at me,
an empty shape where soul and light should be.
A hollow face, no pulse, no spark to free —
I fade, I fracture, cease what once was me.
💬 Did this one echo?
Tell me—before it forgets your name.
—
Written by Matthew Tonks
→ Read more twisted verses at mtonks.com
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Twisted Roads - Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks 
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