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Andi Marchal, Authorさんのイラストまとめ


Raised on Hudson Valley folklore/legends, telling stories became my addiction #Published #Author #FolkHorror #Horror #Poetry All original work © No Tags/DMs
andimarchal.wordpress.com

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We write with our souls
Pens dipped in black inkwell hearts
Poet coterie






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4 8

His eyes like autumnal pools
From golden to rotting brown
Changed from glass to jewels
He spoke of the unfaithful sun
With wondering eyes silent I stood
"This belongs to you...it has begun.”
Memories withering I was bereft
My blood could save this land
The last sacrifice left
⬇️

5 14

desire died
now there is only thirst
my lonely grave awaits
with immortality cursed
I taste the dead with each bite
yet savor the sanity death brings
I’ll

d
i
s
m
a
n
t
l
e
the madness first light



10 29

The last of the roses
By autumn’s wind strewn
Their blush will fade
They’ll be gone too soon.
I’m wind-tossed as their petals
My love left with summer’s sun
Butterflies speak of a new tomorrow
As season’s change has begun.

1 1

A moment…
life placed on pause
a fleeting memory of love
reminiscent feeling of what was
f
a
d
e
s
in an instant…





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2 7

Brontide rumbles in the distance
Leaves are fallin’ all around
Gonna need nature’s assistance
I always did hate that sound
Got no time for spreadin' roots
Not comin’ round here again
Need to pull on them plastic boots
For now I smell the rain


1 4

The suffusion of his evil spread thru her. A refulgence, it split the dark of night. Her head took on a volution of its own and she held no pity for the church’s folly. One by one the frocked fools' souls were devoured.





🎞️The Exorcist

4 10

⚠️#Erotic
Caramel kiss
whipped
it drips
I paint your lips
travel your body
sweetness you can't deny
I see it in your eyes
unexpectedly tamed
stilled and balanced
between surprise and pleasure
like you've won the prize
behind the mystery door


3 8

She stood alone on the precipice, ignoring the necromancer. Her lover left her to die of a broken heart, now they wanted to know why she taken her life. She wanted peace. Her foot left the ledge as she whispered, "All is forgiven."



5 19

Witchcraft is dirty~grave dirt&bones. The caricature of witches is worst part. I've never had a wart on my nose, nor my sisters. We’re wicked when we dress up, flaunt sweet youth & beauty. Confounds the hell out of witchhunters. Join our coven?


3 15