THE DEVIL HIDES HIS FACE

 

He has come for me.

I’ll never be free.

He comes this night.

Fear at first sight.

He claims his love.

But he’s no dove.

He’s evil as can be.

Always searching for me.

I must hide until morning.

Or the town will be mourning.

The devil hides his face.

I know his deadly pace.

His footsteps ring hollow.

Steps quicken to follow.

He sings a sweet song.

I know I’m not wrong.

The devil is right behind me.

Even though his face I can’t see.

He has me in his grasp.

I cry out with a gasp.

He kisses me with passion.

I know this is his fashion.

To take what is not his.

And make me only his.

THE DEAD GAME

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A RIDE ON THE WILD SIDE

 

 

A ride to hell and back.

I will sit in the back.

We fly through the night air.

Sound barriers we tear.

Demons fly by our side.

I have nowhere to hide.

They take us to their lair.

I’m pulled hard by my hair.

Life is over for me.

I’ll never be set free.

THE DEAD AND GONE

black sparkle rose

THE DEAD AND GONE

A town where the snow is black,
bringing coldness and fear.
Old remnants of tears held back,
and times too hard to bear.

Woven from black sheets of rain,
fear covers in disarray.
Anguished and frozen with pain,
dark petals fall in dismay.

Hell has come to Oasis,
The Dead and gone at its side.
Now hidden behind faces
that are well-known far and wide.

Who will fall prey to The Dead?
I hope it is not me.
I’m hiding under my bed.
I’m afraid as I can be.

THE DEAD GAME
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COMING FOR ME

I look out the window
and what do I see?
A storm growing in force
and coming for me.
Death comes to town.
It has its own name.
The one that I know
is called The Dead Game.
THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist
http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP
http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

 (Source: stendec)

 

 

I look out the window

and what do I see?

A storm growing in force

and coming for me.

Death comes to town.

It has its own name.

The one that I know

is called The Dead Game.

THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist

http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

 

 

A COLD HELL

 

 

Blackness beckons.

Fingers grab for me.

Teeth rip at me.

Fish beside me.

Laughter rains down.

The Dead  below.

A cold hell for me.

I am lost.

THE DEAD GAME

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NO WAY OUT

 

 

Lost in a field of daisies.

Falling between the stalks.

Covered by their leaves.

Pulled down by their roots.

Darkness buries me.

Dirt envelopes me.

Illusion becomes reality.

A nightmare becomes hell.

No way out for me.

Only the faces of daisies.

 

THE DEAD love their games.

THE DEAD GAME

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(Source: vwcampervan-aldridge)

 

HOTTER THAN HELL

 

Hotter than hell is their playground.

Beneath layers of rocks and dirt.

They wait for their day of salvation.

When they can ride in the storm.

They grow impatient for the invasion.

The end of life as we know it.

I can hear their cries blowing in the wind.

The whispers brought forth from below.

It’s time for us to gather ammunition.

Before our poor town is nothing at all.

 

THE DEAD GAME

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A WITCH’S BREW

A WITCH’S BREW

Our paradise is lost,
Coldness seizes the day.
To the winds we are tossed,
For our sins we must pay.


Like a cold witch’s brew,
An Oasis for all.
Now a hell for the few,
Who remain to tell all.

THE DEAD GAME

RABBIT HOLE

 

Is this heaven or hell?

Do I hear a loud bell?

Pink lights are flashing.

I can hear thrashing.

 

The forest is alive.

A gigantic beehive.

Buzzing sounds surround us.

Yellow like a school bus.

 

Get me out of here.

Something in my hair.

A giant bee is caught inside.

I need a place to run and hide.

 

Get the bee away from me.

It just bit me on my knee.

I want to go in the rabbit hole.

I don’t care if I meet a mole.