WGA Registration #: 2231728, Copyright 2022
Upon falling awaking, you may experience a sudden rush of anxiety caused by the unknown fear behind a closed door.
Vita Mortuis is a poetic story that follows the encounters of a haunted soul through the four seasons of life. It is intertwined with the tormented love story of Life and Death themselves.
Vita and Mortuis fell in love and had children of flesh and blood. However, Mortuis, Death, could not be with them like Vita, who was Life. This made Mortuis very jealous. Mortuis created crows to retrieve his children, causing Vita to mourn. The torn children, through a desperate plea, caused their celestial abduction, leaving Vita and Mortuis to grieve. The act of separation brought chaos across creation. Grief and anger turned into suffering until a sacrifice was made, altering the existence of life and death throughout the ages of our time.
COMING SPRING 2024 FROM FULTON BOOKS
available on AMAZON and at BARNES AND NOBLE
BOOK SAMPLE CONTENT
"I know what I see, what I see, I believe, but some things you see are meant to deceive."
I Fell fast awake. A dream within a restless dream
Silent knocking plagues my paralyzed drowning scream.
Panic shadows whisper on faint breath.
Heart races toward my baptismal Death.
Tussle with the Knob with all my might
Blacking out, hairs raise my neck in fright.
Will it take me, break me, or reveal the truth of what makes me?
Fear is the leech that bonds my very core.
A sixth sense lies beyond what's in store.
Never to open the seething door.
"Dark shadow bending time
Mirrored waters, forgetful mind."
Do you hear it?
It bleeds an echoing scream
It screams to me
A blood curdling scream.
A shrieking scream that can't be found
Unless lost to hear the screaming sound
I must be lost to hear the devil's hound.
Do you hear it? Louder than before. Could this be the fear behind the seethe door?
It comes from the forest with a hunting jeer
Once you fear, you can never not hear.
Grisly tree roots deep in the vein form of a shadowy black wood.
The screaming tree is a witch that snatched me from where I once stood.
Once she has you in her bosom sound of stench mould
You will never be released from her ardent hold.
The screaming tree calls!
Do you hear it?
Slip away deep into a conscious sleep.
The witch's spell speaks.
Speak of screams, the screams I bawl.
Those screams were my screams.
Now scream with me if you hear my call.
Pawn to the scream, it consumes us in torture
Now we wail together a shared nightmare of horror.
To the witch's scream, I beg and plea
but can't be heard over the screaming tree.
"Mortuis, warden of eternal Death, takes those of the condemned souls.
While Vita, curator of Life, teases hope in those with endless scrolls."