Source:raised-from-the-grave
I walk quickly this night
from who lurks out of sight.
The wind gives a whistle and a sigh
as strands of my hair begin to fly.
The moon hides its face.
I pick up my pace.
Shadows surround me.
Footsteps behind me.
Hands around my neck.
Is that a love peck?
He is taking my blood.
I die in a red flood.
THE DEAD GAME
The wind blows through the trees,
ruffling the blanket of grass,
striking a path through the woods.
The path leads the way
to the house within,
to End House at Oasis.
THE DEAD GAME
Cypress Lawn Memorial Park | GarettPhotography
Evil waits for you and me
beneath the tall cypress tree.
It comes in the dark of night,
won’t leave without a good fright.
The mausoleum is dark.
We only came on a lark.
Time for us to run and go.
The wind says, “I don’t think so.”
THE DEAD GAME
Hotter than hell is their playground.
Beneath layers of rocks and dirt.
They wait for their day of salvation.
When they can ride in the storm.
They grow impatient for the invasion.
The end of life as we know it.
I can hear their cries blowing in the wind.
The whispers brought forth from below.
It’s time for us to gather ammunition.
Before our poor town is nothing at all.
THE DEAD GAME
Split Rock Magic by RJIPhotography on Flickr.
Red glows the sky.
I can see it
from way up high.
The water below
like a mirror I
can say hello.
The wind comes in.
I am chilled from
windows too thin.
This is still my place,
I wouldn’t trade it
for any other place.
Source:soundtrack-for-lovers
Take me far.
Take me long.
Take me wide.
Ride like the wind.
Past borders.
Over hills.
Through valleys.
All the way to the sea.
Nostrils steaming.
Muscles bulging.
Ride like the wind.
The sun hits my face.
Clouds roll by.
Followed by raindrops.
Tears from heaven.
Between the sun and clouds.
Propelled by the soft wind.
They blur my vision.
Stop me in my tracks.
Cause me to look up.
To the heavens.
To the source.
The candle flickers.
The music plays softly.
In an empty house.
The piano keys pound faster.
The wind screams louder.
The games are about to begin.
THE DEAD GAME
Ice Fire
Cold.
Icy cold.
My toes feel numb.
My fingers tingle.
The wind howls.
Sleep tempts me.
But I must continue
to the top of the hill.
The view waits for me.
Only a few more steps.
Silence wraps its arms around me.
I raise my face to the beauty.
The colors take my breath away.
Lost in a swirl of smoke
as it climbs the night sky.
It dances with the wind
as it reaches up high.
The smoke flickers and shakes
throughout its delicate journey.
Braced against any breath
from the nearby beings’ yearning.
It rises slowly.
Its arms reach up to the moon.
A cold wind wafts past.
It will be there all too soon.
