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Author: sterlingcblackwood

Truth to Power

Written by sterlingcblackwood on . Posted in Drabbles.

Darkness engulfs me,
obliterating day and night.
My darkness eternal,
engulfing my spirit in despair.
The walls that separate me unyielding, unmovable.
Frustration and despair rises like a storm.
My life work unrecognised,
I am powerless,
unable to prevent the catastrophe,
that is the future.
I sink defeated, my zeal drained.
I have blood on my hands,
testament to the fight endured.
A fight resulting in gains of less than nothing.
So I listen to the silence…
…I hear it as clear as day.
I have become that which I condemn?

Truth untempered by compassion is no truth at all.

Bradford Literature Festival 

Written by sterlingcblackwood on . Posted in Events.

23 June-2 July, Bradford, West Yorkshire 

The Bradford Literature Festival is one of the UK’s most distinctive cultural gatherings, a ten-day celebration of words, ideas, and imagination set in the heart of a city built on stories. Each summer, Bradford transforms into a living library of voices: poets, novelists, historians, artists, and thinkers from every background converge to debate, inspire, and create. The festival’s spirit lies in its inclusivity and curiosity, its willingness to explore the intersections of literature, politics, faith, philosophy, and identity. It’s less a conventional book fair and more a dialogue between worlds, a place where storytelling becomes a shared act of discovery.

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Game Over

Written by sterlingcblackwood on . Posted in Dribbles.

She entered the room out of curiosity but soon felt unease. She was drawn to a portrait on the wall with piercing eyes that seemed to follow her. Panic set in, she ran to find the door had shut. From the smirk on the portrait she knew it was over.

Macabre Masquerade

Written by sterlingcblackwood on . Posted in Drabbles.

Enthralled, I wove among the repulsive dancers.

Erratic movements and leering skulls enticed me.

The haunting music swelled, swept me into the grotesque dance. 
Had I strayed too far, seduced by macabre delights?
The dancer’s terrified me,

Yet, some dark part of my spirit embraced them.
Their claw-like grasping hands initiated me into the grim ritual.
My panicked cries became manic cackles of glee.
The blur of porcelain faces whirled around my gleeful countenance.
At last, I belonged to the restless legions in this otherworldly carnival.
My face and my soul was at one with them.

…it felt like home.