THE HALLWAY

Green Hallway

The hallway awaits.

It beckons.

It calls.

Doors line either side.

Shrill cries fill the air.

Cold creeps into my bones.

Then silence descends.

peek into the first room.

Empty wheelchairs face me.

Except for one.

It turns, rolls to me,

then stops.

I freeze.

The lights flash.

A table appears at the far wall.

A bright surgical light hangs above.

The men in white coats face me.

I open my mouth to scream.

I’m strapped to the table.

The men in white peer at me.

A drill whirls next to my ear.

I struggle against the thick straps.

The room goes black.

AN ISLAND ESCAPE


Take me away from a world without color,
A world where life is dull and grey.
I want to swim through the ocean’s waves,
Where rainbows can frolic and play.

The sun’s rays shimmer off the water,
Leaving trails of gold, yellow, and red.
Beacons of light for me to follow 
To a new land where to lay my head.

I fly through the rolling waves,
Touching down on a spot of land.
I am lifted by arms of fountains 
And laid to rest on the pink sand.

Turtles scurry away from my hand. 
Birds fly around as they have fun.
The waves recede in their farewell dance,
Leaving me alone in the sun. 

Who lives on this small island?
It’s time for me to explore
The hut of branches in the tree.
I must see if there is more. 

The steps are pretty steep.
I climb and step inside.
The room is small and dark. 
Who knows what it may hide?

I hear footsteps from the room beyond.
They’re coming closer to where I hide.
It’s too late to run for the door.
I must face whoever is inside. 

A man saunters into the room, 
Candles and two places set.
He throws me a big grin
As if I am his prized pet.

We both wait in silence.
He slowly moves toward me.
“I hope you like my surprise.”
I feel as cold as can be. 

I don’t like surprises.
Especially from him.
He keeps me at arms-length,
Not letting me in. 

I lower my eyes
From the fire in his eyes.
They’re consuming me alive.
I am burning from his lies. 

He makes an abrupt movement
And strides across the room.
He kisses me with great passion
Under the blood red moon. 

PAST THE POINT OF NO RETURN

Down the rabbit hole we go,

Far beneath the earth’s surface,

Where The Dead wait for their savior,

Arms extended,

Reaching for us,

Mouths held open in silent cries

As we fall farther,

Deeper,

Past the point of no return.

THE DEAD GAME

I BELONG TO THE NIGHT

Blood oozes from my soul.

Nothing will make me whole.

I belong to the night.

Far from the morning light.

Don’t follow me.

I need to be free.

THE DEAD GAME

WHERE THE WIND BLOWS

WHERE THE WIND BLOWS The trees of the forest shiver and shake, their long limbs trembling for the next quake. Their bodies blaze a glaring white with tears frozen from their new plight. The world has become hard and cold. My trembling body feels...

WHERE THE WIND BLOWS

The trees of the forest shiver and shake,

their long limbs trembling for the next quake.

Their bodies blaze a glaring white

with tears frozen from their new plight. 

The world has become hard and cold.

My trembling body feels old.

Surrounded on four sides by white, 

the bright glare has blinded my sight.

White is the color of my nightgown

as I stand and shiver with a frown.

A shadow emerges from the trees.

I hope it is not him, pretty please.

My body moves forward against my will.

I grab a thick tree and try to hold still.

I dig my feet into the packed snow,

but I must go where the wind might blow.

MOONLIT FOREST

Walk with me

through the moonlit forest,

Our feet graze the blades of grass,

Held aloft by our love and passion.

Follow me through the endless night

To a land where no man walks.

Only creatures dark as the sky

Dare to venture forth alone.

Love has no bounds or shackles.

We will be free to display our passion,

Without fear from humanity,

As long as you belong to me.

Come with me, my ice princess.

Step away from the burning plains,

Where the heat burns your flesh,

And love is hampered by the living.

Wolf extends his hand toward me,

Words flowing from him,

His lips never uttering a sound,

But his meaning is clear.

We can be together,

But the other has followed us.

He will try to take me back

And never relinquish his hold.

His eyes burn red with passion.

Fire follows his footsteps,

Scorching a trail through the grass,

Melting his enemy’s cold trail.

They face each other.

Hot and cold from opposite poles,

Dueling until the end of time,

Fighting for me.

PREY FOR THE DEAD

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

 

RED HOT WAVES

vividessentials: “ Trailing Edge | vividessentials ” Red hot waves lap at the shore, Bringing with it blood and gore. Paradise has come to an end. The Dead are right around the bend. Death is their evening delight. They descend with all of their...

 

vividessentials:

Trailing Edge | vividessentials

Red hot waves lap at the shore,

bringing with it blood and gore.

Paradise has come to an end.

Death is right around the bend.

Florida will never be the same

once we play The Dead Game.

THE DEAD GAME

Kindle

http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP

Nook

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

 

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 NIGHTS COME ALIVE

lesstalkmoreillustration:
“ Soulonfire
LIPSMACKIN’ GOOD ”
Waiting for the night to fall.
You’ll be mine once and for all.
THE DEAD GAME
http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP
http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

 

lesstalkmoreillustration:

Soulonfire

LIPSMACKIN’ GOOD

 

Waiting for the night to fall.

You’ll be mine once and for all.

THE DEAD GAME

http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP  

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj