Scarlet Deluge

By Loris John Fazio


And I remembered what she said, her eyes
gleaming white as a dead girl's toes:

"Beware the west wind when it carries songs
of mourning – no wall is high enough to hide you.
Don't expect it at night, when your cries bounce
hollow on the walls of your brain. It will come
in the daytime, unannounced, like a curse
springing forth from a bridesmaid's lips;
and your flesh will bear the etchings of the gospel
of pain when the storm tears the frame
from the house you call mind.

Shadows taunt the half-light
as bloodclouds swelling like boils
on the sky dispel the fleeing sun.
A cry like thunder fractures the air –
no hand will rise to shield you.
Let the deluge dye your hair, let it
wash your face with scarlet ichor,
let it clot in your throat like scorching 
words you'd sooner die than utter.

And when the ground is shaken
by a desperate sob, when you spin
like a vessel coughed out by a whirlpool,
you will know that it walks this earth
once more, you will know that its mark
is upon you – and you shall tremble.

It hears the fear squirming like frenzied
eels in your tissue, it tastes your scream
in the wind. How can you resist the pull
of the waters? How can you fight
the undertow that drowns in darkness?
It will drag you where chaos burns
and the lurker of the deeps peers
into you dreams with its ever-waking eye –
and then you will know: we are but lost
children feeding a forest's old hunger."

About The Author


Loris John Fazio lives in Catania, on the sunny island of Sicily, where he earned a B.A. in Philosophy. He has felt a fascination for the horror genre ever since reading Edgar Allan Poe’s Tales of Terror at age twelve.

He writes both in English and Italian and some of his poems have appeared in publications such as Black Petals Horror Magazine, Frogpond, The Heron’s Nest and Better Than Starbucks.

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