THE EDGE

 

 

We have reached the edge.

Nowhere left to go.

We escaped the party.

The deadly game from hell.

 

Let’s jump into the ocean.

Swim our way to shore.

To the beach filled with tourists.

Where help can be found.

 

We can’t return to End House.

The evil house of illusions.

Filled with traps and dead bodies.

We will never return.

 

Come, take my hand.

Let’s fly off the rocks.

Soar through the air.

Like a pair of white doves.

 

Footsteps behind us.

Creatures fly above.

The time is now or never.

To take our chance.

 

THE DEAD GAME

THE DEAD COME ALIVE AT NIGHT

 

The hotel floor creaks.

I slowly turn around.

Where are The Dead freaks?

I hear no other sound.

 

The lights flicker.

Can the rumors be true?

I feel sicker.

The Dead will take me too.

 

I can see their faces.

Dark eyes stare at me

As they take their places.

I’ll never be free.

 

I run through the hall,

But I’m running in place.

I give up and fall.

A grin covers his face.

 

He leers at me.

Eyes glowing bright red.

A sight to see.

I won’t see my bed.

 

He lifts me in his arms.

We fly into the dark night.

I won’t fall for his charms.

The Dead come alive at night.

 

VICTIMS OF OUR OWN INSECURITIES

Source: 

 

 

Are we victims of our own insecurities?

Our fears define us.

They limit us.

They push us onto the safest path.

The path with the least resistance.

We need to break free.

Shrug off our fears

And pursue life to the fullest.

WHERE ARE THE PEOPLE?

THE GREEN

 

 

The green hides inside

With unspoken pride.

It comes at night,

Growing in might.

A fine mist falls first

As trees drink from thirst.

They swallow the green whole

By forming a deep hole.

As the fairies alight on leaves,

I need out of here, pretty please.