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

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WELCOME THE MORBID & CURIOUS

 

 

The cobblestones glisten

outside the dark cemetery.

Gravestones stand tall

in the heavy fog.

Moans sweep the winds

that rustle the lifeless trees.

A gate stands open

to welcome the curious.

Footsteps draw closer

to my hiding place.

A cloaked figure enters

the home of The Dead.

It enters a mausoleum

with an angel standing guard.

Goosebumps riddle my body

as I inch forward from my spot.

Dark shadows drift to the door

that the figure has left open.

I can’t stand the suspense any longer

and so I must follow their lead.

I must find the secret lair

of The Dead and gone.

THE DEAD GAME SERIES

WALK THE NIGHT

 

 

Through the darkness.

Through the cemetery.

Through the deserted streets.

We walk the night.

 

In the dead of night.

In the moon’s glow.

In the dark shadows.

We walk the night.

 

Come close.

Come with us.

Come tonight.

As we walk the night.

 

THE DEAD GAME

WE’RE HERE

WE’RE HERE
A walk through the cemetery.
Darkness is my friend.
The moon my buddy.
The stars keep me company.
“Who goes there?”
I hear in the distance.
Is that the night watchman?
Has he seen somebody?
Should I continue walking?
All is quiet.
The mist...

 

WE’RE HERE

A walk through the cemetery.
Darkness is my friend.
The moon my best buddy.
Shining stars to keep me company.

“Who goes there?”
A voice calls in the distance.
Is that the night watchman?
Has he seen somebody?

Should I continue walking?
All is quiet.
The mist moves.
It parts, and I can see—

What is that?
Skeletons are rising from graves.
And I can hear the music.
They are dancing to the beat.

Skulls are swiveling.
Bony feet are tapping.
Who knew a cemetery
could be such fun?

A WALK IN THE CEMETERY

The Valley Cemetery | GarettPhotography

 

A walk in the cemetery.

Not the right place to be merry.

Dark shadows creep in

As dark as their sin.

Wings flap around me.

I’m cold as can be.

A brief tap on my shoulder.

I run to the boulder.

“No one is here,”

I say in fear.

But footsteps, I do hear

Echo as they draw near.

“Oh no, they have found me.”

A fresh grave waits for me.