A house sits on a rise of land.
Maybe it isn’t the house
but the character
who lives inside.
Trick or treat.
The trees bend to the wind.
Lightning flashes across the sky.
The rain drenches the town.
I’m safe and warm inside.
Nothing can reach me.
The storm ravages the land.
And I watch from my window.
I can’t be touched
WHO SITS THERE?
Who sits there in the darkness?
No movement in the blackness.
As still as a fox waiting to pounce.
No hint of a ruffle or a flounce.
A soft sigh can be heard in the air.
Are those slithering snakes in her hair?
Shadows coast along with the circling dust.
The walls trickle with blood or maybe rust.
The ghostly form stands up to meet us.
She can be the hostess to greet us.
A deserted house this seems to be.
She hovers over us like a tree.
We stand alone in this bleak hall.
There won’t be dancing at this ball.
All the candles go dark.
This was a silly lark.
Time to leave this creepy place.
We must quicken our slow pace.
But since this is a horror story.
We won’t be leaving soon with glory.
undying-orchid:Row of Trees (1915) by Jan Mankes (Dutch, 1889—1920).
WALK IN SHADOW
Who waits in the dark?
Stalking its victims.
Blending with the night.
Walking in shadow.
Lighter than air.
One with the mist.
Leaving death behind.
Traces of evil.
Evil wrought on the town.
Who are you?
Come out in the light.
I know you can’t.
I know what you are.
Creature of the night.
Come to me.
And your time on earth will end.
For I protect the town.
I protect the innocent.
Come out of the shadows.
And face me.
All will know who you are.
The leader of The Dead.
Your time is at end.
THE DEAD GAME