We are coming to a town near you.
We walk the nights.
When morning comes,
we’re gone but not forgotten.
THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist
evil
BEFORE
The skyline was beautiful before.
Hope was present before.
Brotherhood was keenly felt before.
Life was pure and simple.
Death wasn’t an everyday concern.
Before.
OUR GAMES HAVE JUST BEGUN
OUR GAMES HAVE JUST BEGUN — THE DEAD GAME
I’m surrounded by blood,
Blood on the walls
And flowing through my veins.
Blood is thicker than water,
Heavey and intense
As it trickles and oozes.
It flows through family members
Like a disease that can’t be stopped,
Bringing with it torment and anguish.
My only recourse is to escape
From within these walls
As I tunnel my way upward.
I want to be free from the evil,
Destroying me from within,
Keeping me from my family.
Our games have just begun.
THE DEAD GAME
TOMBSTONES MOVING
I see tombstones moving,
Winds blowing,
Grass ruffling.
The Dead wait for darkness.
The streets of town they walk.
Innocent victims they will find.
The games are about to begin.
THE DEAD GAME
Kindle
Nook
WE HAVE TONIGHT
Source:baby-vintage
WE HAVE TONIGHT
Dance with me tonight, my darling.
Ignore the evil grins surrounding us.
Let us sway with the music’s quick beat.
No one needs to see the fear I hide
as you twirl me around the dance floor.
A smile is plastered on my face.
My eyes glued to yours.
I know there will be a meeting tonight.
The evil players will be present.
The evil one will soon be revealed.
Don’t let it be you, my loved one.
THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist
HEARTACHE
Heartache is for me.
My heart yearns for thee.
Lies fall so easily from your lips.
They feel salty on my fingertips.
I must remain strong.
I hope I am wrong.
I need proof to trust you once more.
My heart is breaking at its core.
The salty mist soothes me.
The wind caresses me.
But I feel cold deep inside.
I need a safe place to hide.
THE DEAD GAME SERIES
THE HOUSE HAS SPOKEN
The house welcomes.
It creaks.
It sighs.
The front door drifts open.
We step inside.
Gargoyles stand sentinel
on the staircase.
Their eyes follow our path
past the flickering candles.
An icy wind brushes our skin
with unseen fingers.
Shadows move and sway
in the dark hallway.
The front door locks behind us.
The house has spoken.
THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist
