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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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"Witches don't like to be seen running. It looks unprofessional."
~ Terry Pratchett




Gorgeous 🎨 by Francisco Iglesias Perianez

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game time

Your 20-years-contract with the archfiend finally expired and he came to claim your soul - show us what they found on your body when your earthly remains were discovered in your study with 4 images and QT

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Near where I grew up in NY, is Bull Hill on Mt Taurus. Legend says the pirate Capt. Wm Kidd/Capt. Kidd buried treasure in one of the caves. He stashed his treasure in the Hudson Highlands when his ship went down in a storm over 300 yrs ago. It has never been found.

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On we turn inward entering the dark time of the year. This last harvest would have determined our ancestors’ survival thru the winter. For us-a time to give thanks, harvest our creativity & let it light our way as we embrace the darkness.

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It was a quaint little store. I picked up a water globe.
"It's yours if you want it," the owner said.
"I want to be inside it, with my music, all alone, away from the madness of the world."
He smiled, looked at the name of the shop:
𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔚𝔦𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔰 𝔄𝔯𝔢 𝔉𝔯𝔢𝔢

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come
join me
in the
visceral darkness
of my world...

melted candles
flames they lack

midnight’s raven
guards this puckish poet’s back

macabre inspiration
my ink writes black




🎨 IrenHorrors

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𝒮𝓅𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓉
𝑅𝑒𝒻𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝑜𝓊𝓁
𝒢𝒶𝓊𝓃𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝒾𝓂
𝒩𝑜 𝒶𝓉𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝒾𝓃
𝒮𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝒾𝓈𝑒𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓉
𝒟𝒶𝓂𝓃𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝓀𝒾𝓈𝓈𝑒𝒹




Image: Pinterest

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with
strings
and
scars
you eviscerate
my heart
a curtain of stars
hides your heinous art
you seek to revive yourself
from your puppet-like circumstance
you animate
my graceless soul
in a sacrificial dance



The brilliant 🎨 of Anthony Clarkson

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Blindfolds are wasted on the dead
This room like a prison around me
Flounces wasted on funeral gowns
Beautiful, but no one sees me
Ghostly wanderings fill my day
I hear your voice scorn me
How like my life death is
I pass through you, you do not feel me

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he stalks the streets
beneath the moon
anger like dynamite
ready to explode
insanely singing
the same refrain
🎵ȶɦɛ ռɛӼȶ օռɛ ɨ ʍɛɛȶ
աɨʟʟ ʟɨɛ ǟȶ ʍʏ ʄɛɛȶ🎶


🎨 Aradied

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