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I take the winding path shaded in red,
instead of hiding in my comfy bed.
The road widens and narrows its scope
as it weaves away from any hope.
Blood red threatens the night sky
as laughter follows me high.
Rivers of crimson red coat my aching feet
as I walk the road of shame and defeat.
“Is it too late to take the high road?“
I ask if I may be so bold.
I run toward the rainbow in my mind
in the colors and hues I hope to find.
The world twists and turns.
It squeezes us dry like sponges
until we have no strength to fight.
I can’t keep my eyes open any longer
and watch the mad parade of colors.
Hurricanes, poverty, violence, shootings.
Red will soon hide the greens and blues.
Madness will descend and replace the stars.
The moon will hide its face from the night.
The sun will no longer send its rays of warmth.
Mankind will be alone to fend off the darkness.
Twisting, turning, squeezing
until nothing remains of mankind.
Black as night.
Dark as death.
The evil one has come
For me this night.
His eyes shine in the dark.
He sees me and much more.
He walks the earth.
At night he’s the lore.
I cannot run.
I cannot hide.
He knows my secrets.
He knows where I hide.
The roses are wilting.
They crumble in despair.
No colors to lighten their mood.
Only black as they tear.
No footsteps hit the ground.
He walks with the wind.
His body whispers past me.
Chilly fingers brush my face.
He has me in his arms.
We take flight with the stars.
The man in the moon winks.
He takes delight in our games.
I close my eyes in defeat.
He has won yet again.
Cold lips crush mine
As I yield to his touch.
OUR GAMES HAVE JUST BEGUN
THE DEAD GAME
TOUCH THE RAINBOW
I take the winding path shaded in red
instead of hiding in my comfy bed.
The road widens and narrows its scope
as it weaves away from any hope.
Blood red threatens the night sky
as laughter follows me high.
Rivers of crimson red coat my tired feet
as I walk the road of shame and defeat.
Why cannot life take the high road?
I ask if I may be so bold.
Ahead I see a bright light
as I rise with all my might.
I run toward the rainbow in my mind
in the colors and hues, I hope to find.
e n e r g y
A fence for protection
To keep out the raging storm.
We will be safe and dry.
This has gone beyond the norm.
Faces raised in fury,
The waves reach a new height.
They attempt to break through.
They fight with all their might.
We will stay for the duration.
We refuse to flee our homes.
Out come the flashlights,
We’ve lost our lights and phones.
This storm won’t defeat us.
The next one won’t either.
We stick together as one
Until the day is won.
Dark as death,
Black as the night,
The evil one has come
For me tonight.
My heart pounds a beat.
He sees me and more.
He walks the dark street.
At night he’s the lore.
I cannot run.
I cannot even hide.
He knows my secrets.
He knows where I hide.
The roses are wilting.
They crumble in despair.
Their faces are tilting
Only black as they tear.
He has no footsteps.
He walks with the winds.
His body whispers past me.
Soft in the trade winds.
He takes me in flight,
Up to the laughing moon.
I can’t see his face.
I’ll be his all too soon.
I close my eyes in defeat.
His cold lips crush mine.
I search for a way to retreat.
I search for a sign.
OUR GAMES HAVE JUST BEGUN
THE DEAD GAME
briannadamra.tumblr.com
TOUCH THE RAINBOW
I take the winding path shaded in red
instead of hiding in my comfy bed.
The road widens and narrows its scope
as it weaves away from any hope.
Blood red threatens the night sky
as laughter follows up high.
Rivers of crimson red coat my tired feet
as I walk the road of shame and defeat.
Why cannot life take the high road?
I ask if I may be so bold.
Up ahead I see a bright light
as I rise up with all my might.
I run toward the rainbow in my mind
in the colors and hues, I hope to find.
TO BE OR NOT TO BE
To be or not to be a writer.
This has been the hardest question for me.
Should I continue with my pursuit?
Or step away and claim defeat?
One book written.
One book sold.
It dances around on Amazon and Nook.
It reaches new heights in its niche
And then it slowly bows its head in silence.
The highs feel good and lofty,
While the lows feel depressing and sad.
Is it worth it?
Is it worth the aggravation?
I am told that a writer must keep writing.
More books to dance around.
More highs and lows.
Should I keep doing this?
Will I keep doing this?
Yes, for now
As I wait for the next high.
TO BE OR NOT TO BE
To be or not to be a writer.
This has been the hardest question for me.
Should I continue with my pursuit?
Or step away and claim defeat?
One book written.
One book sold.
It dances around on Amazon and Nook.
It reaches new heights in its niche
And then it slowly bows its head in silence.
The highs feel good and lofty,
While the lows feel depressing and sad.
Is it worth it?
Is it worth the aggravation?
I am told that a writer must keep writing.
More books to dance around.
More highs and lows.
Should I keep doing this?
Will I keep doing this?
Yes, for now
As I wait for the next high.
TO BE OR NOT TO BE
To be or not to be a writer.
This has been the hardest question for me.
Should I continue with my pursuit?
Or step away and claim defeat?
One book written.
One book sold.
It dances around on Amazon and Nook.
It reaches new heights in its niche
And then it slowly bows its head in silence.
The highs feel good and lofty,
While the lows feel depressing and sad.
Is it worth it?
Is it worth the aggravation?
I am told that a writer must keep writing.
More books to dance around.
More highs and lows.
Should I keep doing this?
Will I keep doing this?
Yes, for now
As I wait for the next high.
SUSANNE LEIST 