Out of Focus
Why do I chant from the womb of summer?
An out of focus isolated dance of dreams
fruitlessly sowing wild oats that lie fallow,
hopelessly rewriting life flashing by.
A slow waltz in a subtle prelude,
looping and swaying between sky’s tears,
spinning the night with ribbons of clay
as daisies wilt in shadowed moonbeams.
My canvas sleeps in distant dawn
as I beg in my dreams to share the sun,
my unfocused faux grin in a thin white stripe,
straining to recognize the faint reflection
as kicked stone tumbles past my woods.
I walk alone in naked vignette of my life.
Why don’t I realize in my never ending dream
that there is only one race that we must run
and I am the only one who can influence
how it ends.
Behind you
They walked in a lightless empty room holding each others hands. Although in their minds the facility was an embodiment of a shelter what would save them from the disturbing creatures that were folloing them, their only way out was through the shadows in the darkness.
Again...
One more time..
One last time...
In the past they succeded and didn't let the anxiety control their minds. After all, monsters are not real and they live in our heads, right? The thought that they were together kept their fears away.
Until they started feeling their hands cold as ice. There was only one little problem... The room wasn't empty and the hands they were holding so close, weren't their own..
Just look behind you!
Haunting of Horicon
Walking through the pumpkin hollow
In the dark night, through the graveyard’s shadow
Up the steps, and through the door
Into the House of Horicon, where life exists no more
It’s said the walls within shed bloody tears
Of sorrow left behind by those who died over the years
They walk inside, together to see
Are the rumors true, that the dead won’t let you be?
A nightmare exists beyond the entrance
But they will find out when with death will they dance
Ivy climbs the porch rail
As they step upon the porch, the night is pierced by a wail
Holding tight to each other, they stepped inside
The air was stale, but a cold breeze billowed through
Where it came from, neither knew
For the night outside was as still as death
But inside the house, fear threatened to take their breath
Another step inside the home
Once beautiful, before death had come to roam
The billowing breeze slowed to a halt
Before them, the scrawled words read, ’It’s not your fault,’
They walked slowly into the old living room
And that’s when they saw the first hint of red beginning to bloom
Blood trickled down, the walls were weeping
That’s when they saw her, on the couch sleeping
They watched as the scene unfolded like before
A ghostly man walks breaks through the door
The girl in white sits up in terror
As the hatchet he holds arcs through the air
Screams tear from her ghostly lips
And from the hatchet, her blood, bright red, drips
He swings it again and again
As her screams wrack the night almost until the very end
As her death happens before their eyes
The couple is startled to realize
The girl on the couch is the woman who’s hand
The young man holds as together they stand
Watching what happened to them long ago
When evil befell their sleepy hollow.
