Day of the Dead (Wreathed Huitain)

“On this most chilling, moonlit night,
a night of pain, sadness and fear.
Fearless monsters come out to fright,
frightened fleeing far; chased out clear.
So clearly do they shed a tear,
tears of unfathomable dread.
Dreadness ever the domineer,
dominates o’er the fated dead.”

“Please heed these deathly words my dear,
so dearly they’re my last to give.
Given my time sorely dawn near,
near the time repented, I live.
I lived to see you grow up strong,
last strength of my life, cut so shear.
Sheared from those I forever long,
longing to live on, with loved cheer.”

Laura Steel © 2014

Halloween Horde of Harmony

Trick or Treat? (Haiku)
Beware Halloween!
Knock! Knock! It’s time to decide!
Do you: Trick or Treat?

R.I.P (Haiku)
Rest from the living.
In treasuring remembrance.
Peace is your cohort.

Vampire (Haiku)
Stained razor sharp fangs.
An undead night-walker draws blood.
Seeks warm crimson meal.

Will-o-wisp (Haiku)
Oh, that will-o-wisp.
Mischievous little spirit.
A free, foolish fire.

Furry Familiar (Haiku)
Fur as black as night.
Yellow feline eyes pierce the soul.
Witch’s familiar.

Wicked Witch (Limerick)
There once was a witch so scary,
who had boils and warts quite hairy.
So beware of her gaze,
or be left in a daze.
She’ll eat your eyes like a cherry.

Old witch (Limerick)
There once was a scold witch so dire,
Flying a bold broom going higher.
But the stupid old crone,
made it out of mould bone,
She fell on top of a rolled pyre.

Werewolf (Limerick)
Wild hunger it draws on its prey.
Wise cunning has led it astray.
With sharp teeth and keen claws,
Wide roaring drool-gaped maws,
Where one easy mouthful will flay.

Trick and treating (Epigram)
Into the streets kids like to roam,
Rushing each available home.
Garbed in masks, make up or old sheets,
they search mischief, fun and horde sweets.

Devil (Epigram)
When his presence comes into sight,
his appearance will give you fright.
Try as you fray, you’ll want to pray,
or he’ll flay you with all his might.

Rotten Horde (Epigram)
Corpses of weathered rotten skin,
roaming hordes they shamble with kin.
Do your best to hide, run or gun,
because once bit, you’ll become one.

Laura Steel © 2014

The Towers

I guess I might as well keep writing this, screw Andrew, I like keeping a diary and it’s not childish.

  No one knows why it really happened, they just landed, the towers crashed all over the planet. They stand I guess…twenty stories high, have brushed metal towers and bevelled square edges and random panelled faces; one I saw had a ramp which lead up to what looked like a door of some kind. They landed pretty much anywhere from the countryside to the middle of cities. Even on peoples houses while they slept; quite lucky if you ask me compared to what the rest of us had to deal with. They completely rooted themselves into the ground with huge four corned opposable leg-like appendages that looked metallic and to a point, they dug into the ground as stabling foundations. We heard on the car radio that the government and was heavily criticised and it wasn’t as if they could have done much, the pot shots the military took barely scratched the paintwork, as the reporter desperately described, this is before “they” appeared…

  Its been only a week after the towers appeared, the undead…or what ever they were meant to be, they looked half-human at least or they wore our faces as some sort of sick joke. Bloodied with limbs missing – from what I don’t know…others like them? Hungry and twitching like they had an itch they couldn’t scratch. They are apparently roaming the country; possibly the world, with a relentless sluggish haste, adding to their own as they did, they were seemingly unstoppable. The military were just overwhelmed and the police were a joke…now they’re “something”…else.

  I guess me and my friends were lucky, having been out with a group of us on a road trip. All eight of us stayed out camping in a woods, though it wasn’t my idea as I kinda hate camping. I had only gone because of Charlotte, but she didn’t take notice of my rather nervous advances, even though we were the only singles going…it doesn’t matter now.

  We returned to Reading hoping to find our families but we only found these towers and undead. We drove through most to get home though we did have a few close calls. We stopped for food at a local corner store thinking it would be safer than a supermarket. I knew Shaun was bit, he kept clutching his ankle and was sweating despite the car’s AC being on. I discretely mentioned it to the others when we went for fuel…so we left him…at the garage. Clare won’t stop crying, but she knew just was well as we all did that he would have turned on us if we hadn’t – I hope who ever reads this will understand that…oh god the guilt makes me sick.

  An hour ago we started to make our way to one of the towers. A few other survivors had passed us with knowledge that apparently these towers are not the cause of the undead, but were instead shelters. They had opened up but those few who had braved their contents were never seen of again. Alex didn’t come with us, he said it would be stupid to follow these rumours suggesting instead we should be heading as far away as possible, back into the countryside away from everyone. I don’t know, I just wanted us to stay together, so I stuck with the rest of us who wanted to stay and find others. His wife Lisa left with him, she just found out she was pregnant, so I guess they didn’t want to risk it.

  We reached the closest tower we could see from the horizon. We had to take a few detours to avoid a few mass gathering of those things. When we got it we could see what it had landed on. In between two house’s gardens, both buildings were sheared in half, rooms were left bare; destroyed along with any furniture or possessions those people had. I could see that one of the rooms had brightly coloured, cartoon wallpaper. I really hope it was empty at the time. The tower’s roots had crushed another two houses and cut of an entire road either side. We could see the ramped entrance; wide open and somewhat inviting.

  We could just see inside but it was bright, brighter than the dwindling sunlight. A greyish mist was pouring out continuously from some vents, hazing over the lights, blurring what we couldn’t see inside from a distance. We drove the car up as close as possible and walked up to the ramp peering inside cautiously. We only had the option of going in at this point, a few undead had built up behind us and we were in no position to fend them off. We all climbed inside before they could reach us and stood in the middle of what looked like an elevator. There was a panel with what looked like a button; it was panicky pressed by Andrew’s girlfriend Yvette, before those things got close and it activated – She was so gorgeous but a bit dull. It raised us up into a bright light, I don’t know what I was more afraid of, the creatures outside or what awaited us inside…

  I don’t know how long it has been, there is nothing to say what time it is, it feels like weeks. I’m all alone here. Andrew and Yvette aren’t with me, I have no idea where they are. I’m just in a small room; horizontal panels of sterilised white are around me, smooth polished floor and ceiling; which had a bright light that I strained to look at. I’m sat on what would constitute a bed; it’s soft enough. There’s a metallic toilet protruding out the wall – at least that’s what I’ve used it as, and there’s that machine on the wall that produces glassed water and food; it like a paste of bland chicken – I’d kill for pasta bolognese. What am I meant to do here? Is this a safe haven or a prisonn…ugh…stuppid pen…seems to be runnning out… i I love e …you…mu mum and dd dad and Andrew. I missss you…soo.. m much!…

Laura Steel © 2014

What’s your problem? (Non-metered Sonnet)

What have I done to you, stranger unknown?
you attack like I offend so dire!
Oh, what raging fists, spiteful words you’ve thrown,
before you slink away and retire.
I plead; please will you empathise with me,
try to understand what it is I feel.
Emote with that person you do not see,
before you wound me, with words and cold steel.
My mind and body are not one, while whole,
stop treating me like an abnormal freak.
Don’t belittle my mind, my heart, my soul,
treat me as a fool, as if I am weak.
Imagine the tables turned, spun around,
Wouldn’t you want what I want, common ground?

Laura Steel © 2014

The Wicked Wisp

On the most devilish of nights, in the darkest reaches of Impium wood, an unholy grove exists. Rumours are foul of it’s inhabitant. Fouler still? The smell; rotten, musky, with just a little bit of mould.

Haunted by non other than the Wicked Wisp of Impius; unspoken by the locals. Tales tell of a spirit most horrid, named of a place so dreadful such as this. Radiator of that oh so sickly orange aura. It’s wickedness, told by drunken truth and basked in sobered doubt. 

It’s cheeky grin and evil emanating eyes are the first and last to be seen by those curious looking fools. Distance of miles nor dodging of trees will not save those foolish enough to enter it’s realm; the twisted woods both dead and undying. The eater of lost souls, the devourer of bone, knows where you roam.

You may have heard of it’s charm, that sweet childlike laughter, but do not be fooled it’s not there for games.

No sword can fend it off. No shield or armour can save your hide. No magic can disperse it’s malevolence.

Reader please beware!
This is your only warning!
Do not proceed on!


Laura Steel © 2014


The Ex-Communicated Champion (Part 2) – The Hagiren’s Call

Having walked for days, the far reaching plains had turned into rockier hills. The grass was thinner and the ground was steeper. Aryron hesitated. His ears picked up on something strange, it was the sweetest of sounds. It was hard to determine what it was, it sounded like the gentlest of voices from a most angelic seraphim. He looked towards the darkened cave to his right. Focusing on the entrance, the ringing melody in the air grew louder, this is where it was coming from.

He entered the cave with very little concern. The sound echoed through the jagged mossy walls. Navigating through the twists and turns, stepping over outcrops of rock that would have tripped him or almost slipping on the dusty gravel that poked through his thin leather shoes. 

The cave opened out into a sunlit cavern, it was a hidden oasis of beauty. The roof was open and a ray of brilliant Sol light cascaded down into a column. It bathed a magnificent tree; full of the most vivid pink blossom, which rained its petals in a haze, from it’s base and grew towards the opening of the ceiling above. Through out chamber there was thick grass and flowers of the most vibrant of colours and shapes.

Under the tree sat the most beautiful of creatures. Her flowing gown flowed with the air. Ayron walked closer, his heart was now tethered and was being pulled ever closer. He knelt before her, trying to see beyond the weave of golden shiny hair.

As he reached out too uncover her face, she stopped. The seemingly fragile face turned; radiant blue eyes turned raging blood red, perfect porcelain smile into a toxic razor maw, soft smooth skin into grey wrinkled leather.

She screamed with an ugly high pitch and with her dirtied claws reached for his face – She pounced! 

Without thinking, Aryon took hold of the nearest branch by his feet and lodged into the beasts neck. 

The sweet echo was reduced to a gargled moan as it slumped across the tree’s roots. Shaking his head he had realised what he had done, the deathly error that almost was. Around him the deception faded. The green grass wilted, the flowers had dried to dust and the tree was but a mouldy husk of a stump. The branch was a femur of a past victim now dripping purple and reeking worse than death. Hagirens were not known to inhabit these parts, atleast to Ayron’s knowledge, but here one lay motionless. 

Ayron came full to his senses looking around to see the previous victims of the Hagiren’s call. Stepping over their remains both new and grayed, all gnawed clean, crunching under foot. He walked back out in a daze. Outside the cave that was nearly his tomb, he collapsed against the rocks, he sighed and cleansed his sweaty face with his bare palm. Having learnt his lesson, he looked skywards and thanked the divines for their aid, gratefully continuing to walk on.


Laura Steel © 2014

Reaching Out

Under a heavenly baize,
Trillions of eyes blink.
A fathomless face,
Into which I sink.
Beyond that draws my gaze.

Upon a body, I stand.
Staring up above.
Outwards I reach,
With a hopeful glove.
Anchored, upon the land.

Pain of blocked desire,
Forbidden by response.
Haunted, and longing.
Void of comic sconce,
Echoes the radiant choir.

Faced with absolute cold,
Bitterness I cry.
Please hear me!
Unheard, passed the sky.
Into the endless void.

Laura Steel © 2014

The Shadowhunter – A sleepless stormy night

With no curtain to draw and sat alone, Laurena stared blankly out of her bedroom’s only four pained portal. Buffeted by wind and rain, the rapid pitting and rattle flooded the room. The clear barrier was the only defence against the elements.

It was only to be made worse with the flash preceding rumbles. In the distance an approaching monster roared. Her eyes took notice of the periodical bursts of light and sound, They grew louder and loader as the minutes pasted. Laurena’s ears peaked at the impending monster; it’s rapid flashes and booming roars…the beast was getting closer and closer and closer.

Staring drearily at the streets below through her heavy eyes, there was always life in the late hours in Umbran. The light from the setting Sol would not wane the citizens from their duties nor the ability to carry out tasks. The shambling Bone-servants were also carrying various sized crates and barrels, autonomously done, so fearlessly due to lack of emotions. Just pale drones following magik orders. Their ossein feet slushed through the muddied cobble. The patting sound of cartilage was easily drowned out by the rain and the accustomed ears of the cities residence.

The creeping demon was coming and his rolling body blanketed the sky with it’s dark purple hues, lit up with the jagged streaks of forking bolts, swiping it’s claws across the blackened overcast sky.

Lightning storms were not uncommon for these lands but in the mid-year month of Ignary the storms raged more aggressively. The hottest month of the year and the region around Umbran where the perfect combination for the destructive randomness to strike furiously across the horizon.

Closer the strikes became. The booming sound rattled the glass that Laurena’s head caressed to cool from the stuffy midnight air. Quietly contemplating in a dreamy state about past regrets and desires that would always go unfulfilled.

Suddenly just a few streets away a bolt struck the top of a house and it exploded with an massive burst of fiery debris. Feint agitated screams of the unexpected rang around the neighbourhood along with the feint hint of children’s shaky crying.

Laurena’s heart pumped an unwanted amount of adrenaline through her veins and her eyes sprung open to bear witness to the destruction of wood and slate tiles. The beast had claimed a victim, it’s claw had gouged out a chunk of roof top. The harsh rain fortunately quelled any fire but not enough to suppress the smouldering supports, randomly spewing sparse embers, that once existed where a gaping wound was now present.

After the excitement subsided Laurena quickly grew tired of the boredom she was forced too returned to. She slumped her head back down on her pillow to stare at her own ceiling’s wooden beams. The storm had still not passed but was fading. Satisfied in it’s hunt.

It would take hours of frustrated turning and apathy, before she…finally…drifted…into…a…



Laura Steel © 2014