WAITING CAN BE PURE AGONY

The house sits dark and empty.

Who will visit its dark rooms?

Will someone ever sit on the chair

to gaze deeply into the vanity mirror?

Spirits walk the long hallways.

Waiting for company.

Waiting for life and sounds

to enter the house once again.

Is it so much for them to ask?

Why is it so hard to find new owners?

How much longer must they wait?

Waiting can be pure agony

when you have nowhere else to go.

DARK THOUGHTS

  1. WATCH THE NIGHT

    Carl Rabus – Spassky Gate in Moscow (detail)

     

    The clouds circle around.

    Bringing the moon closer.

    Lighting up the windows.

    Where faces watch the night.

  2. Inside Edinburgh’s castle. Scotland || Personal photograph

     

    A castle where spirits walk.

    Darkness hides in corners.

    Old fragrances float in the air.

    Shadows follow without footsteps.

    And sighs fill the empty spaces.

MARK THE SPOT

 

 

Dark skies above.

Dark trails below.

No wildlife.

No birds or insects.

Only dense grass.

To mark the spot

Where End House had stood.

Its evil glory washed out to sea.

To be replaced by a green carpet

Of emptiness and darkness.

A marker for The Dead.

From the dungeons they’ll rise

And walk the earth once again.

THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist

 

Source:

MANSION OF THE DEAD

 

 

The perfect house.

Perfectly kept furniture.

Each room empty.

Each a period in history.

No people to sit on the chairs.

No people to dance in the ballroom.

Where is everyone?

Who watches the house?

Who keeps everything so perfect?

Visit the deserted mansion.

And find out.

THE DEAD GAME

Kindle

http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP

 

Nook

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

SING ME A SONG

 
 
SING ME A SONG
 
Sing me a song.
Write me a melody.
Of times gone by
And moments lost in time.
 
Stroke the keys.
Massage the ivories.
Raise your voice high
Until all can hear your words.
 
Words of hope and loss.
Sing them loud and clear.
Stories of far away places
And times long gone.
 
I close my eyes.
I can still hear your words.
I can see your fingers
Stroking the keys so softly.
 
The words have taken flight.
They reverberate through time.
They have left your lips
To land in my heart.
 
A sweet melody
To soothe my advancing years.
A pretty song
To fill my empty heart.

THE HUNT

sex-blood-and-death:
 
 
THE HUNT

It first comes slowly.
In the dead of night.
Walking on silent feet.
It draws closer.
You run faster.
It speeds up.
You dash into a building.
An empty school.
It soon follows.
It brings with it a silence.
You can feel its presence.
Coming closer.
It’s now moving quickly.
Down the deserted hallway.
You check the doors.
They are all locked.
You turn.
Close your eyes.
And stand strong.
Darkness descends.
To encompass all.