Frozen in place.
Dripping tears for centuries.
Memories of a lifetime.
Praying for salvation.
A frown for eternity.
Will her tears sprout
a garden for The Dead?
THE DEAD GAME
by Susanne Leist
A GARDEN FOR THE DEAD
alone
BLOOD MOON
what we feel in our hearts.
As the day comes to an end,
we must face the night.
Turn not your face away.
Dare not take a step back.
Bear the brunt of the red moon
as it burns through your empty soul.
MY PATH SO NARROW
Source: duxuebing
I stroll through the fallen leaves,
a translucent green beneath my feet.
Red branches bring me shade,
protecting me from the harsh sun.
I walk alone through the silent forest,
no one to bring me pain or sorrow.
Alone is what I desire most
as I follow my path so narrow.
DARK PASSION RULES THE NIGHT
A creature of the night,
who walks in the moonlight.
Don’t be fooled
by his beautiful shell.
For inside, he’s empty,
without a soul.
THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist
Dark passion rules the night.
SAVE ME FROM MY SOLITUDE
Frozen in place.
Dripping tears for centuries.
Memories of a lifetime.
Praying for salvation.
A frown for eternity.
Will her tears sprout
a garden for the dead?
THE DEAD GAME
SIREN’S CALL
I walk alone each night.
The wind moans and howls,
but no one calls my name.
I walk alone each night,
waiting for the siren’s call.
But no one calls my name.
IT IS HERE
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 Wave Breaking Beneath the Pier, Folly Beach, SC
© Doug Hickok All Rights Reserved
How can it be here,
my ultimate fear?
A force to be reckoned,
Growing by the second.
Thrashing waves at the shore,
I can’t take it anymore.
My dying wish can’t be
to be consumed by the sea.
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ALONE IN THE DARK
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 Source: slobbering
Who sits and waits in the darkness? There is no movement in the blackness. As still as a fox waiting to pounce, No hint of a ruffle or a flounce.
A soft sigh can be heard in the air. Are those slithering snakes in her hair? Shadows shift through the circling dust As the walls trickle with blood or rust.
The ghostly form stands tall to meet us. She can be the hostess to greet us. A deserted house this seems to be. She hovers over us like a tree.
We stand alone in this bleak hall. There won’t be dancing at this ball. This was a silly lark. Then the candles go dark.
Time to leave this creepy place. We must quicken our snail’s pace. But since this is a horror story, We will not be leaving with glory. |
THE WOMAN IN THE SHADOWS
Each night a woman appears.
Her shadow floats across the dimly lit garden.
The wind whistles in her wake.
One night, she doesn’t appear.
What happened to her?
I still wait.
ANOTHER NIGHT
A shadow passes.
More shadows follow.
They circle a gazebo.
The shadows take form.
Humans in hooded robes.
A woman hangs from a noose.
They circle faster.
The wind follows in their wake.
Cries fill the night.
Then silence.
The gazebo stands empty.
Another night in Oasis, Florida.
THE DEAD GAME
