:
Alice Svane
The darkness approaches.
It encroaches.
We’re cocooned in its shell.
Hidden in its depths.
Lost in its silence.
I will close my shutters.
Shut my windows.
But it still enters.
:
Alice Svane
The darkness approaches.
It encroaches.
We’re cocooned in its shell.
Hidden in its depths.
Lost in its silence.
I will close my shutters.
Shut my windows.
But it still enters.
Tall windows to let in the day.
The sun rises and shoots its ray.
I watch people saunter by,
Peek into windows up high.
I’m as happy as I can be
To let the world come home to me.
They fly against the windows.
Trying to enter the Town Hall.
Our shelter from the storm.
They’ve found us.
Windows break.
Glass rains upon us.
The end has come.
THE DEAD GAME
Tall windows to let in the day.
The sun rises and shoots its ray.
I watch people saunter by,
peek into windows up high.
I’m as happy as I can be
to let the world come home to me.
“Come to me,” the house whispers.
A whisper on the cold wind.
A streak of lightning.
A rumble of thunder.
What else has the house in store for us?
Strange lights in the windows.
The lights becomes dancing figures.
What goes on at night at End House?
Dare we find out?
THE DEAD GAME
Kindle
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Nook
http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj
Tall windows to let in the day.
The sun rises and shoots its ray.
I watch people saunter by,
Peek into windows so high.
I’m as happy as I can be
To let the world come home to me.
THE EVIL INSIDE
Can you feel the evil?
Spreading through town.
Moving through the trees.
Entering through open windows.
Spreading.
Enveloping us all.
It comes at night.
Into our beds.
Seeking the innocents.
Ones to join them.
In their deadly adventures.
Do not join them.
Stand strong.
Don’t let the evil enter.
Once it’s inside,
it won’t leave.
Until all are dead.
THE DEAD GAME
Kindle
http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP
Grand Central Terminal.
There is no other like you.
Keeping the pace through
the calm and the hectic.
Providing light through your
mullioned windows.
The watcher of it all.
The keeper of schedules.
But most of all,
the keeper of time for those
passing through your lofty gates.
Carl Rabus – Spassky Gate in Moscow (detail)
The clouds circle around.
Bringing the moon closer.
Lighting up the windows.
Where faces watch the night.
Inside Edinburgh’s castle. Scotland || Personal photograph
A castle where spirits walk.
Darkness hides in corners.
Old fragrances float in the air.
Shadows follow without footsteps.
And sighs fill the empty spaces.
The house stands
alone and deserted,
dark and forlorn.
The moon casts its glow
through the tall windows.
Shadows fall on the
shiny wood floors.
Mice scurry from sight.
Dust flies through the air.
The wind whistles through
the cavernous rooms.
Rooms that had once held people,
furniture, and signs of life.
Signs of laughter and hope.
Now the house sits alone and dark.
What could have brought it
to such an end?
Has death entered this house?
Bringing with it sickness and sorrow.
Or has the family simply moved away?
A house holds secrets,
close to its heart.
Secrets that lie buried
beneath its floors
and foundation.
Be careful where you dig.
You might not like
what you find.