INNOCENCE

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INNOCENCE

Innocent.

Alone.

Happy.

Content.

Until…

Until the footsteps.

Drop those balloons

And run…

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MURDERS AND LOVERS

 

 

Read a book by the warm fire.

Moments can’t get any brighter.

Let the snow fall outside.

I will keep warm inside.

No need to fight the drifts.

I’ll stay with the misfits.

The ones who prefer books

that grab you with their hooks.

The fire is getting low.

The winds are about to blow.

I snuggled further beneath the covers

as I read about murders and lovers.

A SHIMMERING BLUE

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Haze covers the town,

but please do not frown.

Secrets are concealed.

The Dead are revealed.

We come in the fog.

The mist we don’t hog.

We’ll share it with you,

a shimmering blue.

The moon shines its glare

on those who come here.

Frolic in the night.

Just keep out of sight.

 

THE DEAD GAME

 

SHADES OF RED

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Shades of red fall from the sky,

They hit the ground in puddles of crimson.

Red falls from the darkening sky.

It covers the grass with its bright hue.

My face burns hot from its touch

as blood pumps faster through my heart.

The creatures track my desperate retreat

through the deserted woods.

I will be one with them all too soon.

 

NO SUN

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The moonlight shines on us all.

It has made the sun’s face fall.

It takes over the day from now on.

No more heat from its favorite sun.

Oasis will exist in the dark.

It’s scary in this deserted park.

I must get home before it’s too late.

Before my fate is sealed on this date.

THE DEAD GAME

 

A LIGHT SHINES

 

A light shines through the window.

What was dark is now light.

The spotlight hits its mark.

My dark form shivering on the bed.

Whispers fill the air.

Footsteps follow in their wake.

A door opens below.

Is it too late to run?

I must save myself from him.

He walks the night to find me.

His journey has come to an end.

And so has mine.

THE DEAD GAME

THE WASHING MACHINE

 

 

I’m having a bad dream,

no, maybe a nightmare,

of a washing machine.

 

It wakes me up at night.

It rumbles and whispers.

I hope it won’t take flight.

 

It’s moving and grooving

to a beat of its own,

that is far from soothing.

 

It’s a horrible sight.

A machine set to hard.

It’s ready for a fight.

 

I scream into my pillow.

“My clothing is all too clean,”

then I weep like a willow.

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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