THE DARK STREETS OF TOWN

mostlyitaly:
“  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...

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

 

I WALK ALONE

I walk alone.
In dead silence.
The wind flees.
The moon hides.
Man stays clear.
I walk alone.
Death is my companion.
Fear is my weapon.
Hell is my home.
I walk alone.
THE DEAD GAME
Kindle
http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP
Nook
http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

 (Source: magnetar1)

 

 

I walk alone.

In dead silence.

The wind flees.

The moon hides.

Man stays clear.

I walk alone.

Death is my companion.

Fear is my weapon.

Hell is my home.

I walk alone.

THE DEAD GAME

Kindle
http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP
Nook
http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

 

 

DEAFENING SILENCE

Desolate.
Alone.
Stark.
Cold.
Empty.
Sitting on a hill.
No houses nearby.
Only the comfort
of a bare tree.
The wind rattles
through my open beams.
Snow drifts in from my roof.
No peace.
Only cold.
And deafening silence.
Will it always be so?
Will the sun shine ever again?
Will horses return to my stables?
I could only wait and hope.

FOOTSTEPS

leirelatent
“Institute Benjamenta” (1995)

 
Has he come for me?

I hear his footsteps.

The leaves stop rustling.

The wind stops blowing.

The silence is overpowering.

A stranglehold on my nerves.

Is he standing outside the door?

Waiting for me to open it.

I won’t.

I won’t let him in.

He wants me.

I refuse to become one of them.

THE DEAD GAME

http://myBook.to/TheDeadGame

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

 

 

A SIGH

 

The island calls to me.

It whispers my name.

The bridge sighs.

It weeps for me.

I walk across.

It wobbles to and fro.

I hold tight to the ropes.

One step gives way.

And so does the next.

The sides unravel.

I can’t move.

Time stands still.

I’m falling.

Cold water hits my face.

Silence now takes it turn.

FROZEN BEACHES

Silence reigns supreme.
The sun hides its face.
Palm trees shake their leaves.
Winds pick up their pace.
Hotel stands deserted.
Flapping sounds fill the air.
Dark shadows join the fray
Beneath his icy stare.
THE DEAD...

(Source: thelavishlife)

 

 

Silence reigns supreme.

The sun hides its face.

Palm trees shake their leaves.

Winds pick up their pace.

 

Hotel stands deserted.

Flapping sounds fill the air.

Dark shadows join the fray

Beneath his icy stare.

 

THE DEAD GAME

http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP
http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

 

 

FOOTSTEPS AT THE DOOR

“Institute Benjamenta” (1995) dir. Timothy Quay, Stephen Quay

 

Has he come for me?

I hear his footsteps.

Walking up the steps.

The leaves stop rustling.

The wind stops blowing.

The silence is overpowering.

Is he standing outside the door,

Waiting for me to open it?

I won’t.

I won’t let him in.

He wants me.

I won’t become one of The Dead.

THE DEAD GAME

http://myBook.to/TheDeadGame

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj