FURY

 

 

The sea throws its fury.

It fights for its path,

Grinding down rocks,

Swallowing debris whole.

It roars to the shore,

Waiting for no one.

Its might is its right

To reign supreme forever more.

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WHO GOES THERE?

THE HOUSE WITHIN

Source:

 

The wind blows through the trees,

ruffling the blanket of grass,

striking a path through the woods.

The path leads the way

to the house within,

to End House at Oasis.

 

THE DEAD GAME

THE ROAD TO NOWHERE

wanderthewood:
“ by sannalinn
”
THE ROAD TO NOWHERE
Life takes us on a ride.
A path with no guide.
A ride for no rhyme or reason.
A circle with no side.
A path deep into the jungle.
People passing along the way.
Traps to trip us up.
Lurking demons...

 

wanderthewood:

by sannalinn

 

THE ROAD TO NOWHERE

Life takes us on a ride.

A path with no guide.

A ride for no rhyme or reason.

A circle with no side.

 

A path deep into the jungle.

People passing along the way.

Traps to trip us up.

Lurking demons held at bay.

 

The end leaves us with more questions.

Not answered along the way.

A destination with no purpose.

No clarification for our stay.

 

INTO THE DARK NIGHT

Prank
Source: whitechapelwitch

INTO THE DARK NIGHT

Follow me along the cobbled road.

Shadows lurk and float on by.

Hurry, catch up before I grow old.

Winged creatures fill the night sky.

My high heels click against the cobbled stones.

This way to the oldest building in town.

Take care not to step on any bones.

Curve your mouth to remove that awful frown.

Up the steps, we go.

Please walk through the open door.

Is he friend or foe?

Multiple heads hint at more.

Growls fill the still air.

Darkness permeates the long room.

Reaching hands grow near.

A woman flies by on a broom.

“Surprise” is shouted by all.

Lights shine brightly in our faces.

Enters a man ten feet tall.

Standing high on metal braces.

He holds a cake rimmed with black bats.

The audience quiets to a hush.

My friends approach in party hats.

They sing to me as I hide a blush.

“Happy Halloween” and “Happy Birthday”

Become “Happy Hallowday.”

As I bow my head and enjoy my day.

A prank I must soon repay.

THE SWAMP

Swamp
moody-nature
IMG_4842 // By Robert Guimont

THE SWAMP

The swamp holds mysteries,

Silence within its barren domain.

Eyes peek through the sheer surface,

Hinting at the dangers lurking below.

Lacking is the bird’s song of twilight.

Missing is the rustle through the brush.

Silence holds us in its thrall,

Cold fingers clasping around my neck.

Humid air coats my mottled body,

Mutilated by blood-thirsty mosquitoes.

The path teases my mind’s eye,

Offering a way out of this hellhole.

I hack at the dried branches,

Threatening to leave me with one eye.

I’ve reached the end of my journey

As my feet sink in the quicksand of despair.