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HORROR SPRINGS ETERNAL 

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FEATURE

From Horror Springs Eternal

December 1, 2025

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Once upon an uncertain and unsettling time,

In countless worlds, and others such as these,

Parallel realities, not in concert but also strangely aligned,

Came a sinister man begat of evil who would rule with ease.

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The sinister man was once mortal, with human limits,

He held power as a mogul, but this was a faint whisper of true power,

He embraced the dark arts, resisted by others too timid,

He would preside over his kingdom from his ivory tower.

 

Thriving in both murky daylight and blinding night,

The sinister man’s rising influence spread throughout the land,

Nothing and no one could escape the gaze of his traveling eye,

He conquered the nation, and its boundaries began to expand.

 

He vanquished his own counterparts in other realities,

Absorbing their obscene powers, fully transparent and visible,

An all-powerful singularity would be born of such dualities,

Once combined into the whole, the sinister man would be invincible.

 

He stalked us, like a hunter to its prey,

He consumed us, both in the darkness of night and the light of day,

Escape from his grasp became futile, the grip of the unholy wraith,

Prayer was no defense, no longer empowered by true faith,

His seduction ensnared many, innocent and guilty alike,

After denouncing the true God as false, he could fully strike.

 

Other governments toppled, awaiting inevitable assimilation,

Secession was thwarted, his rule spreading like an unholy virus,

The Indivisible States of America became the one true nation,

Our Leader was now the indisputable sinister emperor among us.

Although omnipotent, his power had limits,

He needed foot soldiers, boots on the ground,

He could emerge triumphant only with the help from minions,

It was a strategy he found to be utterly infallible and sound.

 

The nature of his servants took many forms,

There were those with second sight, to seek out discord,

Wrong-thinking and superior intellect were now capital crimes,

There were others less valuable, now terrified of the end times,

For them, complete subservience to Our Leader was the only escape,

For the rest, salvation and repentance had come too late.

 

The impact of rule by his iron fist took many forms,

Trial and terror . . . government-run media . . . became the norm,

There remained strength in numbers, so true unity was quelled,

Millions of his followers marched happily into Hell,

The spread of lies fanned the fires of desecration,

Fear of embracing a demon paled when compared to true damnation.

 

He tested and toyed with lost souls in all walks of life,

None had staying power; none could challenge him,

He sought a worthy adversary, who he could take as a wife,

The new world order would be the gift of humankind to both of them.

 

He chose his potential queen, his trustworthy right hand,

A troubled woman within minutes of taking her own life,

He bestowed upon her  powers, an irresistible intoxicant,

He removed her from an existence of hopelessness and strife.,

 

Where emptiness and desperation once reigned supreme,

The once plain and simple woman now had a sharp-edged purpose,

She deferred and bowed to her new king,

She pledged her undying loyalty and unconditional service.

The now hauntingly beautiful woman beheld her master,

She surrendered herself utterly, her devotion everlasting,

She bowed to the conqueror of light, the ruler of the dark,

It was inevitable that she would soon take his mark,

Then, her destiny and fate would be sealed,

Her embrace of the monster . . . the beast . . . would be revealed,

Her humanity and faith could never be restored,

Not unless she surrendered herself to another Lord.

Open defiance of the sinister man was an act she did not dare,

The queen knew that she was mere breeding stock for his heir.

 

She resisted the tug of war for her very soul,

She now controlled the fate of others, and it was glorious,

She was elated that the lost miserable woman was no more,

Although the eternal consequences were enormous.

 

She silenced the voices beckoning her to repent,

Her immortality and absoluter power were her eternal reward,

Somehow, she would vanquish the sinister man,

She would denounce this and any other false lord.

 

She continued to delight in the damnation of her own victims,

While the sinister man mocked and laughed at her inner torments,

She held a secret even his second-sighted minions could not predict.

Contempt for her master, hard to ignore and impossible to forget.

 

Their power grew, Willard Craig and the lovely florist, Rose,

Their inevitable ultimate conflict loomed,

The outcome of which nobody and no entity knows,

It was not a question of if it happened, but of who would be doomed.

 

Weary yet revitalized, the florist now snips the stem of a rose,

She has survived and thrived another encounter with the sinister man,

The lovely yet cursed flower slithers within her fingers and glows,

She will be the victor; she will defeat him at his own evil plan.

The rose is a symbol of the inner conflict poisoning her soul,

The florist is sometimes not convinced she is still in control,

The rose’s petals glow with radiance, but is it from darkness or light?

She is an embodiment of everlasting virtue versus relentless night,

What would be reaped from the rancid seeds she had planted?

A tortured eternity of an evil existence forever tainted?

 

Somewhere, he exists and flourishes solely to oppress us,

The Sinister Man destroys what we hold most precious,

The screams of dissent are carried by the fragrant floral air,

Rose the florist cries out in frustration and despair.

 

Once upon a simpler time, the seeds of fatalism began to grow,

These are truly the times that try men’s souls,

The bell tolls for thee, and it has been rung,

The final battle for humanity has just begun.

 

That calling persists, tugging mercilessly at her conflicted soul,

Her resolve must remain firm, nagging doubts not allowed to grow,

The sinister man seduces and mocks her from everywhere,

To weaken now would trap her forever in his vile snare,

She lacks the second sight, so only time will tell,

Whether she will be cast down into the depths of Hell,

Will she be tormented for all time by all gruesome things infernal?

Evermore, Horror Springs Eternal.

© 2025 by Joe Townsel. All Rights Reserved.

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