A SPOT OF EVIL

 

 

A spot of evil.

A dash of hell.

A drop of blood.

And your Grimoire.

A mighty spell

will vanquish The Dead.

 

♦THE DEAD GAME♦

 

Kindle
http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP

Nook
http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

A BOOK OF EVIL

Source:

 

A book of evil.

A book of the devil.

Does it exist?

It exists in Oasis, Florida.

It’s revered and honored.

Its worshippers are many.

Its followers are fierce.

Few survive.

THE DEAD GAME

Kindle

http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP

Nook

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

A SAD SONG

 

I stare into the dark.

Your future will be stark.

My grimoire burns bright,

flames to a great height.

Death is coming your way.

I won’t be here to say,

“This won’t be a paradise for long,

soon you will be singing a sad song.”

THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist

 

A SPOT OF EVIL

Mare (live in Kraków)

A spot of evil.

A dash of hell.

A flicker of candlelight.

A skull or two.

And you’re prepared.

To fight The Dead.

Don’t forget your spell book.

A mighty spell can take them down.

THE DEAD GAME

Kindle
http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP

Nook
http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

Source:

THE FOREST

 

 

Or so they say.

I want to know what they’re doing.

I’ll follow them into the woods.

Between the tall trees.

Through the dense undergrowth.

To the house waiting in the distance.

The Dead walk among them.

Or so we are told.

THE DEAD GAME

http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

HIDDEN

HIDDEN

I walk among the living at day.
They do not hear I word that I say.
They believe I’m alive like them,
But I’m stronger than any men.
I can run like the wind through the trees,
Flying through the sky faster than bees.
At day my true self is hidden away.
People think I might be a little fay.
At night I walk the earth with the others.
They are as close to me as my brothers.
I’m more powerful than The Dead are.
To find me you don’t have to search far.
Who am I? you might ask.
I might take you to task.
Then you will be in hell forever more.
Be careful before you open that door.

THE DEAD GAME

LA SANTA MUERTE

La Muerte

LA SANTA MUERTE

Welcome to the black saint of death.

Welcome with my last dying breath.

You grant desires and hopeless wishes.

In return we must sleep with the fishes.

Sacrifices are your pride and joy.

Then you treat us like a broken toy.

You stand there with your scythe and crown.

And your dark face bears a big frown.

We haven’t seen you for many years.

Now you are back in our deepest fears.


THE DEAD GAME


Kindle

http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP

Nook

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj