A GARDEN FOR THE DEAD

Frozen in place.

Dripping tears for centuries.

Memories of a lifetime.

Praying for salvation.

A frown for eternity.

Will her tears sprout

a garden for The Dead?

THE DEAD GAME
by Susanne Leist

BLOOD MOON

 

Blood Moon

Source: 021c

 

 

Red reflects on the water

 

what we feel in our hearts.

 

As the day comes to an end,

 

we must face the night.

 

Turn not your face away.

 

Dare not take a step back.

 

Bear the brunt of the red moon

 

as it burns through your empty soul.

MY PATH SO NARROW

Translucent green
Source: duxuebing

 

I stroll through the fallen leaves,

 

a translucent green beneath my feet.

 

Red branches bring me shade,

 

protecting me from the harsh sun.

 

I walk alone through the silent forest,

 

no one to bring me pain or sorrow.

 

Alone is what I desire most

 

as I follow my path so narrow.

LOST AT A CARNIVAL

LOST AT A CARNIVAL
A clown leers at me.
The knife-thrower aims
and misses.
I run into a tent.
Mirrors surround me.
I flee into the darkness
and crash through a mirror.
I stand in a dark room.
The floor spins.
I grab for the walls.
My hands slide
on...

 

LOST AT A CARNIVAL

A clown leers at me.

The knife-thrower aims 

and misses.

I run into a tent.

Mirrors surround me.

I flee into the darkness

and crash through a mirror.

I stand in a dark room.

The floor spins.

I grab for the walls.

My hands slide

on the slippery stones.

A hole opens in the ground.

It widens,

pulling me closer

to the abyss.

I’m falling.

 

THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

myBook.to/TheDeadGame

 

DARK PASSION RULES THE NIGHT

red eyes

 

A creature of the night,
who walks in the moonlight.
Don’t be fooled
by his beautiful shell.
For inside, he’s empty,
without a soul.

THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist

 

Dark passion rules the night.

 

 

SIREN’S CALL

passium:
“ vintage blog
”
I walk alone each night.
The wind moans and howls,
but no one calls my name.
I walk alone each night,
waiting for the siren’s call.
But no one calls my name.

 

passium:

vintage blog

 

I walk alone each night.

The wind moans and howls,

but no one calls my name.

I walk alone each night,

waiting for the siren’s call.

But no one calls my name.

 

 

THE UNREAL CAN BE TOO REAL

1 unreal

 

I want to taste your sweet nectar

and lose myself in your fragrance.

Your blood will be mine

as I pluck you from the vine.

 

THE DEAD GAME

amzn.to/2nkhyHU

bit.ly/1lFdqNj

IT IS HERE


 

Wave Breaking Beneath the Pier, Folly Beach, SC
© Doug Hickok  All Rights Reserved
How can it be here,
my ultimate fear?
A force to be reckoned,
Growing by the second.
Thrashing waves at the shore,
I can’t take it anymore.
My dying wish can’t be
to be consumed by the sea.

ALONE IN THE DARK


 

 

Source: 

 

 

Who sits and waits in the darkness?

There is no movement in the blackness.

As still as a fox waiting to pounce,

No hint of a ruffle or a flounce.

 

A soft sigh can be heard in the air.

Are those slithering snakes in her hair?

Shadows shift through the circling dust

As the walls trickle with blood or rust.

 

The ghostly form stands tall to meet us.

She can be the hostess to greet us.

A deserted house this seems to be.

She hovers over us like a tree.

 

We stand alone in this bleak hall.

There won’t be dancing at this ball.

This was a silly lark.

Then the candles go dark.

 

Time to leave this creepy place.

We must quicken our snail’s pace.

But since this is a horror story,

We will not be leaving with glory.