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(Yet another) Challenge of Inspiration 5
I came to a realization, after the 4th, that the first challenge of inspiration is inherently up to me. Apparently, 4's phrases weren't terribly inspiring, so that's on me. Hopefully this one will go better. Use the phrases below in a unique story or poem which begs a rejoinder of some kind from other Prosers. Responses need not be entered directly into the challenge--feel free to compose your response as a regular post, then put a link to it in the comments of the original piece so we can all find it. One winning original entry and one winning response entry will be blessed with a life-changing $5 prize! That's a whole pizza at Little Caesar's! (Or half a salad... somewhere... where people eat salads.) ______________Here are your challenge phrases: _______________ at your doorstep, Hate's last breath, carry on, alternate truth, the undertaker's dream, backward curiosity, nearing the End of Days, unnatural motives, I think of scales, forever in a ____________ Have fun! And no, "have fun" is not one of the phrases. Ugh... I know at least two of you are going to title your entry Have Fun just to mess with me. You know what? I don't care if you have fun or not--just do the damn challenge!

In the Rocking Chair

Woe you

Sodden man, whiskey drunk and worthless

Atop the rocking chair.

Shirt collar splayed.

White whiskers abundant.

Remember when mother held your hand?

Now you are long forgotten

and mother is dead.

He comes for you

Sodden, whiskey man

Your sins are not an alternate truth

Like the rats around your rotting feet,

Sins aplenty, the rot spreads in you.

Do you know your granddaughters birthday?

Do you know what you made her do?

What a backwards curiosity you rotting old man

No wonder He comes for you

Hate's last breath will seep out your door

Once you open it, you'll open doors no more

Time echoes at your doorstep

You're nearing the end of days

But you know this old man,

You in your obnoxious slumber, breath raspy, lungs burnt black

Do you remember how the grass felt on your feet?

You ugly, soulless, sodden man.

Do you remember your sins?

Unnatural motives all of them, most of them

No matter, He will judge you

I think of the scales, tipping out of your favor

Will you groan and cry, old sodden man?

No one will watch you cry, no one will carry you on

The undertaker's dream, you will kiss cold hard earth

Six feet under and six feet down again.

He will be your witness

He will watch as you pass by

Carry on old man, slumber on in peace

Not much longer until He takes your keys

to life, and lust and all else in between.

Forever in a rigid motion, Die as you might old man.

Don't fall off the rocking chair though, that'd make it all complete,

The sinister malice filled screeching of hell transcends time old man

There's rats waiting at your feet.

waiting to feed

yearning to feast

on a woeful,

whiskey drunk, worthless old man

in a rocking chair.