Down the Dark Path Home of author and artist, J Edward Neill

Heavy Metal Bundle – Come and get it

November 4, 2019 | Music | Permalink

Hi everyone.

I’m parting ways with some quality musical equipment.

Here’s what I’ve got:

Ibanez RG 7-String Guitar – Black Finish – Good condition (Small chip in lower rear body)

Marshall 80 Watt Amp – (Roughly 100 Hours of play time)

Metal Zone Boss MT-2 Heavy Metal Pedal

Cables, Picks, Extra set of New Strings, Guitar Stand

$350 Paypal or Venmo

Extra photos available if requested.

Local Atlanta or Chicago area only. 

Send inquiries to Facebook or Twitter.

Tell Me Where to Send Your Free Copy of The Fall of Castle Carrick!

October 27, 2019 | Books! | Permalink

The Fall of Castle Carrick

FREE ARC (Advance Review Copies) available for U.S. Book Reviewers

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Alex O’Riley has always tried not to fit in. In his simple life, at his tiny Savannah house, he paints quiet masterpieces while living as a hermit.

But with one phone call from a brash New York lawyer, Alex learns he’s inherited Castle Carrick, the grandest castle in all of Northern Ireland.

At Carrick, strange and dark events begin to swirl ever closer to him, turning his hoped-for quiet life inside out.

Now he must decide: flee from Ireland and give up his inheritance…or embrace the dark power which compels him to paint wondrous, yet terrifying things.


The Suspense is Killing Me – A Poem

August 20, 2019 | poems | Permalink

I wait in chains

for the dawn, for the almighty clock to tick.

Dangling for the universe to see,

whole lifetimes swim beneath me.

My eyes consume all things in absentia.

Like parchment, my skin,

inked with small stories, unread.

If they came to cut me down, I would deny them.

“Let me hang,” I would cry. “For here I will outlast you all.”

I wait in chains

for a key, for a hand to turn it.

My lips are sewn shut, and my tongue locked behind the pale bars

of my jailer teeth.

At times, the wind rips at my flesh.

At others, it adores me.

Still I sway in bondage, unknowing what is real,

and what lies have come to whip me.

I wait in chains

for the night to die, for the sole voice I starve to hear.

Naked, the shadows strip me to my bones,

killing each yesterday, tearing the names from tomorrow.

If it stings, no one will know,

for none will lift their faces to see me.

And when it comes at last, whether I am whole or living death,

the cold clasps of my captured soul will break.

I will tumble, through cloud, through rain, through everything

I have watched, yet never touched.

The suspense will end.

And I will know the worth of my waiting.

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J Edward Neill

The Dark Art Movement

August 18, 2019 | Art! | Permalink

Hi there, everyone.

I’ve recently joined a new art collective.

At Dark Art Movement, we specialize in surreal, scary, and intense art. We have paintings, photographs, drawings…everything.

Please stop by and check us out. We’ve got a little something for everyone curious about the dark arts.

Sincerely,

J Edward Neill

The Riot

August 7, 2019 | poems | Permalink

She lives in the wind

or so the riot tells me.

A golden flame, a pale rapture, an elemental catastrophe,

all of this, and more, the riot will say.

An invisible trail, she leaves,

on the streets we have walked, in our rumbled bed.

But she is never lesser.

Her hours of toil beget mere moments of calm,

for there is no taming her, only the lie thereof.

She walks never straight, but in tangles, in weaves,

and on wild paths only the trees can name.

She lives in the wind

or so I’ll say

from now until the end of everything.

Many will try, and many will dream of her at peace,

only for a moment’s breeze to unravel her.

to take her skyward.

to unleash her.

The riot, she is.

In body, in spirit.

And those who would tame her,

had best beware.

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J Edward Neill