Read a book by the warm fire.
Moments can’t get any brighter.
Let the snow fall outside.
I will keep warm inside.
No need to fight the drifts.
I’ll stay with the misfits.
The ones who prefer books
that grab you with their hooks.
The fire is getting low.
The winds are about to blow.
I snuggled further beneath the covers
as I read about murders and lovers.
How did I come to be here?
Cold wraps around me in fear.
No matter how far I walk,
I can hear them move and talk.
Muttering curses on me
with faces, I cannot see.
They surround me on each side.
There’s nowhere for me to hide.
I must get out of here soon.
Before the next full moon.
The landscape is cold and bleak.
I’m beginning to feel weak.
Ice is melting in my shoes.
I’m getting the winter blues.
I can’t find my way out of here.
I had thought the town was so near.
I’ve been walking for days.
I’m in some kind of daze.
There’s a break in the rocks ahead.
I hope they didn’t leave me for dead.
My friends have to come back for me.
Rocks and trees are all I can see.
My friends are in the park playing ball.
I didn’t have to be afraid at all.
The moonlight shines on us all.
It has made the sun’s face fall.
It takes over the day from now on.
No more heat from its favorite sun.
Oasis will exist in the dark.
It’s scary in this deserted park.
I must get home before it’s too late.
Before my fate is sealed on this date.
THE DEAD GAME
Split Rock Magic by RJIPhotography on Flickr.
Red glows the sky.
I can see it
from way up high.
The water below
like a mirror I
can say hello.
The wind comes in.
I am chilled from
windows too thin.
This is still my place,
I wouldn’t trade it
for any other place.
Anguish is my sole friend.
Tentacles wrap me close
with its wiry arms of despair.
The day holds no easement for my pain.
The sun shines too bright from its tall pedestal.
The night brings forth the proud moon
that rides the sky with its chariot of horses.
Its glow lights the hearts of the forgotten.
Its reflection soothes the troubled soul.
One more minute before I join the others.
The ones who search for the white reflection
in the cold depths below.
They come from the deep.
They come when you sleep.
On waves of ice and stone,
They’ll burn you to the bone.
Fire burns hot in the ice.
It doesn’t feel so nice.
When it hits your body,
Time for them to party.
The Dead love to eat.
Humans their best treat.
Stay far from the shore,
Or they’ll ask for more.
THE DEAD GAME
Source:words-in-the-paradise
The moon bows its head.
In retreat behind the clouds.
Hiding its face.
Leaving no trace behind.
That’s when they’ll come.
In the dark.
In the cold.
In the night.
View of Mt. Fuji from Mt. Tenjo on a cloudy winter morning
THE FIGHT
Night into the day.
Day into night.
I’m swept away
As I hold tight.
The night numbs me,
Making me cold.
The days rush by
As I grow old.
I prefer day
When the sun shines.
The night is fey,
Dark through the pines.
Night into day.
Day into night.
Days become grey,
No strength to fight.
Ice Fire
Cold.
Icy cold.
My toes feel numb.
My fingers tingle.
The wind howls.
Sleep tempts me.
But I must continue
to the top of the hill.
The view waits for me.
Only a few more steps.
Silence wraps its arms around me.
I raise my face to the beauty.
The colors take my breath away.
