FLY HIGH

Fly HIgh

 

What does it feel like to fly,

Rising to meet the blue sky?

 

Soaring to a new height.

A bird’s exclusive right.

Alone and soaring high,

Nary a cloud in the sky.

 

Take me along with you, please.

What can I do to appease?

 

The wind will ruffle my feathers.

I will fly without any tethers. 

 

I will fly over the land

To the tune of a marching band.

 

 

SILENT FEET

Source:

 

 

They walk on silent feet

through the forest so deep.

I must keep moving my feet

without stopping to sleep.

 

The howling wind plays their song

of bloody deaths for us all.

They’re not for this place for long.

They wait for the town to fall.

 

They are surrounding me.

I can’t outrun their reach.

Somehow I must get free

and make it to the beach.

 

The ground is opening.

Sadly I know for whom.

I’m falling in a hole

that will soon be my tomb.

 

THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist

http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP  

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

RED IN ITS ANGER

 

 

The storm approaches the shore.

A spray of water hits my face.

The salty breeze lifts tendrils of hair.

Palm trees sway and bend.

The sand ripples

from the increasing wind.

Birds flee for safety.

Waves crash against the rocks.

The sky darkens to red in its anger,

raining tears across the land and sea.

When will it end?

Once the sky calms,

the sun will shine.

The birds will return.

The tantrum will be over.

RIDE WITH THE WIND

 

 

RIDE WITH THE WIND

The Dead ride the night.
They ride with the wind.
The daylight is their enemy.
Lock your doors.
Cover your windows.
You might be next.
They are a select group.
They torment their victims.
They are bloodthirsty.
See you in hell.


THE DEAD GAME

Kindle
http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP

Nook
http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj