MY DAY BY THE SEA

 

A walk down the street.

Fragrances so sweet.

White cobblestones line the way.

Here is where I want to stay.

 

Away from the madding crowd.

A place where I can be proud

To call my new home.

I don’t need a phone.

 

All I need is a soft bed

To lay down my weary head.

Fishermen’s cries will wake me

To start my day by the sea.

A PERFECT NIGHT

 

A perfect night for a walk.

The moon is shining.

The stars are twinkling.

The graveyard is dark.

A mist weaves

through the graves.

A cold wind whips past me.

What’s happening?

Figures stand up.

Rising from the graves.

Time to end my walk.

They’ve surrounded me.

How did they move so fast?

They are transparent.

A dark figure stands

behind them.

A figure that isn’t transparent.

With a knife in his hand.

Time to run.

Too late.

A not so perfect night.

NIGHT WALK

Night Walk – {by Tiina Törmänen} | {Official WebSite}

 

A walk alone in the dark.

Feel the cold.

Smell the trees.

Hear the snow falling.

Watch the stars sparkle.

Engage all your senses.

No interference.

No voices.

No noises.

Only clean, fresh air.

And you.

A WALK BY THE SEA

Source:

 

A walk by the sea

is waiting for me.

Salt air in my hair,

Please come over here.

We should take this opportunity

before we can hit our next thirty.

Chances like this are rare.

We are are a lucky pair.

To walk along the beach,

so close within our reach.

Source:

Transparent

 

 

I walk the night.

My skin transparent

In the moonlight.

My true self revealed

For all to see.

Come walk with me

Through the streets.

Others join us

On our dark march.

The sun is gone.

The moon is master.

We are The Dead.

THE DEAD GAME

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Source:

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
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Nook
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Source:

THE FINAL BELL

A road to the end.

A long walk alone.

Clouds for company.

Quiet reigns supreme.

Darkness abounds.

One foot in front of the other.

Closer to the end.

Where heaven waits.

Or the gates of hell.

I close my eyes in acceptance.

Fate has rung her final bell.

Source:

A PUPPET ON A STRING

 

A puppet on a string.

Creepy.

Surreal.

Never in control.

At someone’s beck and call.

It must end.

Before it’s too late.

Before I turn to wood.

Before I become a Pinocchio.

 

No puppet life for me.

I will stand up for myself.

I will throw off my strings.

I will walk on my own.

I will be free at last.

Never to be

someone’s puppet 

ever again.