Notes About The Poem
Written for Robert James Liguori's The Mists of Barovia Poetry Contest on Jan. 14th 2026.
Static in the Fabric of Time
Watch existence burn; see vermilion flames flicker in my eyes
Whilst you stand amongst the ashes and bones of what was never meant to be.
Inhale the murky smoke of contempt,
Choke on particles formed from your contrition.
Feel the accelerating heat scorch distressed flesh.
Quiet—lest my demons hear you scream.
Perched, waiting to devour
A soul so frigid, frostbite seeps from your stagnant veins.
Mercy is nowhere to be found.
Hysterical laughter escapes from my broken lips
As you writhe in pain, trying to escape.
Vines of razor-wire belladonna barricade;
The hunter is now wholly ensnared.
Visions of the past materialize like static,
Disrupting the penultimate bits of your sanity.
Microscopic questions flow rapidly:
Is this version of reality just a delusion,
Disrupting the very fabric of time?
Or are you suffering for your incompetence?
The smell of sulphur grows stronger with each thought.
Through melting breezes, the Pied Piper plays
Such sweet music—wrath’s revenge.
The Devil’s Inferno is calling you home.
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