NIGHT FALLS

relatlonship Deactivated

 

 

Rising from down under.

Below our calm waters.

Beneath our heavenly paradise.

They come to our shore.

Dark shadows on the soft breeze.

Leaving dead bodies on the sand.

Disappearing with the morning light.

Until night falls once more.

THE DEAD GAME

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DRIPPING WITH SIN

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    The waves are churning.

    My face is burning.

    What’s coming for me?

    I don’t want to see.

    It rises from the deep

    when all are fast asleep.

    The Dead come ashore.

    For me, they’ve come for.

    There’s nowhere to run or hide.

    I refuse to take their side.

    The Dead will not win.

    They’re dripping with sin.

    THE DEAD GAME

A DREAM

Source:

 

Water in waves of blue and green.

Nothing can be so clear and clean.

Sunshine beating down on my head.

I have made the soft sand my bed.

Palm trees fan the warm ocean air.

I can feel the breeze in my hair.

A place like this must exist.

A dream like this I can’t resist.

FROM THE DEEP

 

 

They come from the deep.

They come when you sleep.

On waves of ice and stone,

They’ll burn you to the bone.

 

Fire burns hot in the ice.

It doesn’t feel so nice.

When it hits your body,

Time for them to party.

 

The Dead love to eat.

Humans their best treat.

Stay far from the shore,

Or they’ll ask for more.

 

THE DEAD GAME 

GOODBYE OLD FRIEND

An Island Escape

The world is changing.

Forests are dying.

Animals are becoming extinct.

Nature has taken control.

 

Days are warmer.

Rain falls harder.

Earthquakes rock the planet.

Hurricanes bring the winds.

 

Ocean waves dance to the deadly tune.

Bow to our new foe, Mother Nature.

Crime does its share,

But nature cleans the slate.

 

Towns and cities topple

Beneath the rubble.

The salt water hits my face

As I watch the waves rise.

 

I wait for the beautiful sight

To turn deadly and reckless.

The laps at the shore

Become heavy slaps.

 

Rocks and debris are

Thrown into the wind.

Soon I am drenched.

The ocean has come ashore

 

To wreck havoc on our lives.

My eyes tear as I search for

the ocean’s lost beauty.

I search for my old friend.

 

My old friend who’d soothed my fears.

My friend is long gone.

All is gone.

And so will we.

 
 

NO PAINTING REQUIRED

 

Brush strokes of blue and gray

to fill in the puffy clouds.

Crayon swipes of teal and aquamarine

to meet at the neverending horizon.

Each wave swell of the purest white

to rise from the depths of dark blue.

My fingers reach for the canvas.

My eyes travel to the brushes.

I shake my head.

No painting is needed.

No copy to diminish the essence 

of a perfect summer day at the shore.