Welcome the night
And its good friend, the moon.
Do not take flight
From the man in the moon.
Let the moon take over
From the sun’s bright reign,
As the sun takes cover
Without feeling pain.
A thick blanket will fall,
Giving security.
Darkness will cover all,
With its fine purity.
For the sun, we need not pine.
Don’t waste time mourning.
After the stars twinkle and shine,
The sun rises each morning.
I see him in my mind’s eye.
He is dead, and so am I.
He floats alone in the ocean.
I have taken the dark potion.
His body slowly drifts near,
A countenance without fear.
I long to touch his face,
Not of the human race.
My spirit glides free.
And soon, so shall he.
I stroll past the storefronts,
tinted windows mirroring the fading sunlight.
I descend the steps to the beach,
soft sand trickling through my toes.
The sky turns black,
the clouds a dark gray.
The waves thrash in a demented dance,
and the wind propels me forward.
I race to Main Street,
palm trees bowing in unison.
Howling winds toss garbage cans,
and debris coats the streets.
The windows hang broken and twisted,
glass crunching beneath my feet.
The saddest sight is the church.
The once-white church stands charcoal-black.
The Dead are here.
The games have begun.
Are you invited to a party?
Can it be at End House?
A deserted house at the edge
Of the forest in Oasis, Florida.
People have disappeared from this house,
Never to be seen or heard from again.
Are you going to this party?
I admire your courage.
Your tenacity.
I will tell you what you may expect.
No one will answer your knock on the door.
The door will open by itself,
Inviting you to step inside.
Flickering candles and gargoyles line the staircase.
Your group will divide into two.
The first group will follow the staircase candles.
Your group will follow the flickering
lights in the right hallway to the basement.
Which group will find the elusive host?
Who will survive to tell the tale?
Only I know.
For I am one of The Dead.
We love our games.
Welcome to THE DEAD GAME.
Kindle
Nook
I should have listened to my heart’s song,
Listened to reason and right from wrong.
I’m now trapped in this horror of despair,
Waiting for death to take me in its arms.
The shadows are growing larger,
Surrounding me from all sides.
There’s nowhere to run or hide;
I will stand strong against the tide.
He’s here.
I can feel him.
He’s come back for me.
No one is safe from his wrath.
The cold wraps around my body.
My hair drips icicles down my neck.
I shiver in dread of my future.
My future as queen of The Dead.
THE DEAD GAME
Floating in the dark of night
After the birds take flight.
Out in the sea, I drift alone,
Where no one else dares to roam.
Tears fall upon my face
As they step up their pace.
Flooded with grief and despair.
I free my braid and cut chunks of hair.
I don’t need to be a beauty anymore.
He’s walked out of the proverbial door.
I am free to drift with the night or
Visit the depths of the ocean floor.
No one searches for me.
I take a step, I’m free.
Night turns into day,
Day turns into night.
I feel myself sway,
As I hold onto the light.
The night numbs me,
Frighteningly cold.
The days rush by
As I grow old.
I prefer the day
When the sun shines.
The night can be fey,
Dark streaking the pines.
Night turns into day.
Day turns into night.
Days become gray,
I have no more
strength to fight.
Welcome the night
And its good friend, the moon.
Do not take flight
From the man in the moon.
Let the moon take over
From the sun’s bright reign.
Let the sun take cover
Without severe pain.
A thick blanket will fall,
Giving the earth security.
Darkness will cover all
With its fine grace and purity.
For the sun, no need to pine.
Don’t waste precious time mourning.
The stars will twinkle and shine.
The sun will rise come morning.
The hallway awaits.
It beckons.
It calls.
Doors line either side.
Shrill cries fill the air.
Cold creeps into my bones.
Then silence descends.
I peek into the first room.
Empty wheelchairs face me.
Except for one.
It turns, rolls to me,
then stops.
I freeze.
The lights flash.
A table appears at the far wall.
A bright surgical light hangs above.
The men in white coats face me.
I open my mouth to scream.
I’m strapped to the table.
The men in white peer at me.
A drill whirls next to my ear.
I struggle against the thick straps.
The room goes black.
Welcome the night
And its friend, the moon.
Don’t take flight
From the man in the moon.
Let the moon take over
From the sun’s bright reign.
Let the sun take cover
Without hesitation or pain.
A thick blanket will fall,
Covering the earth with security.
Darkness will cover all
With its grace and purity.
The stars will twinkle and shine.
For the sun, do not pine.
It will return tomorrow morning
With no need for any worrying.
SUSANNE LEIST 