Horror Made original: Past Demons

Tangled in the grasping hate

Pulled beneath the swarming

The black cloud clings to us

Obscuring our efforts

Absorbing our will

This spiteful multitude gorges on us

Tearing tiny strip after tiny strip

Of what little good is left 

In the tombs of our souls

A rip

A tear

More blood

More fear

The distance stretches as the sea rolls us 

Like skeletons in the sand

If only 

if only we could just reach


we could

Defeat our monstrous shadows

~by Jeanette A.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s