DROWNING IN THE BASEMENT

annsava:

 

 

I’m drowning in a pool of water

in the basement of End House

Can this be an illusion?

The Dead love their games.

THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist

ILLUSION

 

 

A place of illusion.

Windswept nights.

Are your eyes deceiving you?

Has a waterfall appeared

where once stood a beach?

A river to replace an ocean.

Anything is possible.

If you believe in it.

 

FEEL IT

Source:

 

Does this place exist?

Is it an illusion?

I need palm trees.

My own oasis.

An escape from the world.

Empty of people.

I can see it.

Feel the hot sunshine.

Cold water on my toes.

A paradise so sweet.

Honey on my lips.

I’m there right now.

Don’t bother me.

THE WINDOW

The house in the woods,
Covered by vines and leaves.
Eyes peek out at the sun.
The door stands open.
We walk in.
“Hello, does anyone live here?
Oh, I didn’t see the two of you.”
A man and a woman stare at us.
“Welcome to our house.
Would you like to...

 

 

The house at the edge of town,

Covered by vines and leaves.

Eyes peek out at the sun.

The door stands open.

We walk in.

“Hello, does anyone live here?

Oh, I didn’t see the two of you.”

A man and a woman stare at us.

“Welcome to our house.

Would you like to see the upstairs?”

The woman asks with a smile.

Shana nods eagerly.

I follow them upstairs.

Children’s bedrooms sit empty,

Perfect shrines with dolls and toys.

“Would you like to see the attic?”

The woman turns to us.

I shake my head.

Shana nods.

An empty room faces us.

The rocking chair begins to rock.

Back and forth.

The man’s dark eyes find us.

“We watch End House from here.

We are The Watchers.”

The rocking chair faces the window.

End House looms in the distance.

Who is rocking the chair?

A vampire Watcher?

Squeak, Squeak, Squeak.

It rocks back and forth.

THE DEAD GAME

http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP  

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

 

 

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

http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP  

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

(Source: vwcampervan-aldridge)

 

A Field of Flowers

 

Through a field of flowers.

Pink petals in my hair.

Follow the babbling brook.

At the mountains I stare.

 

Green grass for carpeting.

Wisps of white clouds float free.

White snow caps the mountains.

Grey rocks all I can see.

 

Grey surrounds oasis.

A mirage that can’t be.

Flowers lift their faces.

An illusion for me.

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.