Wrzaski. by narva on DeviantArt
I’ve seen what I should’ve have seen.
My eyes won’t close for sleep.
My heart refuses to stop racing.
My tears have dried up.
My blood boils hot and steamy.
I’m lost to this world.
I’ll soon be one with the next.
THE DEAD GAME
A carnival waits beyond the door.
A door sitting in a diner.
A door open to all adventures.
Open to all possibilities.
Step through the doorway
and enter your own world.
THE DEAD GAME
A killer lurks in each one of us.
It hides behind the human facade.
It needs the right incentive.
The perfect reason.
To be released from its hold.
From its human cage.
Release the demons.
THE DEAD GAME
I must escape this hell.
Where The Dead trap me.
Try to snare me.
With their evil ways.
I must find a way out.
Out of this dungeon.
To the world above.
The angels will show the way.
Am I dreaming?
THE DEAD GAME
Drab walk of life.
Day to day existence.
Dark shadows fading.
Grey becomes the norm.
One day becomes the next.
Put on your mask.
Dress in your gown.
Step into your party shoes.
The dance is about to begin.
Music fills the mirrored room.
The band picks up the beat.
Dancers swirl under chandeliers.
Rainbows of light reflect off the walls.
The room enlarges to accommodate the dancers.
Until the clock strikes midnight.
The music stops.
The dancers stand still.
THE DEAD GAME
A barren wasteland.
Nature has forgotten.
The sun ignores.
Green no more.
Ahead awaits the mansion.
Its residents not living.
Watching through the windows
All who dare to visit.
A maze of rooms
Offering psychedelic delights.
Of times gone by
And life forgotten.
THE DEAD GAME
I need to get away.
To somewhere far away.
Where trees drip pink.
Water flows in blue waves.
And quiet reigns supreme.
A storm is brewing on the horizon.
Lightning shoots across the darkening sky.
Palm trees bow in the increasing winds.
The pink sand recedes in fear.
Waves become towering sheets of ice.
The Florida sun hides its face
Behind angry, grey clouds.
The Dead have come to play.
Paradise is lost and gone.
THE DEAD GAME
Pink as far as the eye can see.
A place as perfect as can be.
A warm summer wind shakes the trees.
More pink petals on the soft breeze.
SUSANNE LEIST 