The hallway waits.
It beckons.
A green light shows the way.
Closed doors on either side.
Cries fill the air.
A coldness descends.
Then total silence.
I inch forward.
I peer into a room.
A wheelchair sits empty.
Voices.
I step into the hallway
and follow the sounds.
The door at the end stands open.
Surgeons stand around a table.
They turn and smile at me.
They fade from sight.
Then I’m on the table.
Doctors stand above me.
I must escape.
A scalpel descends.
Too late.
The forest torments me to no end.
I don’t want this to be a dead end.
Hot breath breathes close to my ear
as I make my way from here.
The woods are known to be haunted.
With dark whispers, I’ve been taunted.
I’ve passed this tree before.
I can’t run anymore.
The shadows are closing in.
The forest is dark as sin.
I must say goodbye to one and all.
It’s time to follow the bouncing ball.
The script has been written.
My neck has been bitten.
I bid you adieu.
A vampire, to you.
THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist
An orange streak hits the spot
Where day and night meet a lot.
Flames float to the sky
From arms raised up high.
The light play continues through the night
As we watch and hold each other tight.
The sky lightens to shades of grey
As it welcomes the coming day.
Happy, we made it through the long, dark night.
The rising sun is a welcome sight.
A beautiful gazebo.
Perfect for a wedding.
Fantasy comes to life.
Until the night.
Robed figures circle.
A noose hangs within.
It’s slipped around my neck.
I can’t move.
The figures circle faster.
The winds pick up speed.
I’m hanging.
Watching my life drift away.
A beautiful gazebo.
Source: PENNYWISE
SEND IN THE CLOWNS
A quiet hotel room.
Shabby furniture.
A dim light glows from
the bedside lamp.
A high-pitched sound
pierces the stale air.
The T.V. turns on.
A clown’s face appears.
He stares at you and says,
“Why are you here?
How dare you enter my room.
If you don’t leave right away,
I will have to kill you.”
His hand reaches through the screen.
His body emerges.
He stands on the worn carpet.
You are no longer alone.
They never sleep.
They walk the nights.
They roam into your bedrooms
and your nightmares.
They haunt the hotel,
where the wealthy play.
They take from the best
to assuage their needs.
They never sleep.
They walk the nights.
They hide in their mansions
from the Oasis sunshine.
Dark shadows roam
the streets of our town.
They never sleep.
They walk the nights.
THE DEAD GAME
A fog rolls into town,
blanketing the streets.
A silence descends
as night takes over.
A crow watches
and waits.
The moon rises
with the creatures.
Shadows walk softly,
leaving no footsteps behind.
A trail of dead bodies
lie scattered In their wake.
The sun opens one eye,
afraid to see the damage.
But it must rise
and shed its light.
A burden the residents
of Oasis must bear.
In silence.
In secrecy.
Until The Dead
are gone for good.
THE DEAD GAME
Kindle
Nook
I’m surprised and honored to have a poem written for me by fellow poet, Kenny McPhee. Most of my poetry is on the spooky side. I began writing poetry as a way to showcase my book. Soon I found I love to write poems. I’ve added nature and inspiration to my repertoire, but I’m basically a creepy poet.
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SPOOKY SUSANNE You enjoy a walk on the dark side, susanne Nobody true, they say, but once in a while
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Altamura (Apulia, Italy) by Dauno Settantatre
Dark are the streets
By which they creep.
Silence is their goal.
Through the town, they go.
Bodies left behind,
Blood-dry we will find.
Church bells are tolling,
And heads are rolling.
Flee from this we must
Before we are dust.
THE DEAD GAME
It comes with the sea
Following me to shore
Through the undead woods
And under the door.
A life of its own
Living in the house
In this coastal town
Alive from within.
Filled with dead bodies
And untold deadly sin.
THE DEAD GAME
