Ahhh the witching Hour The time when things Are possible But know in a good way As you can see Or be possessed By demons I wake up at this very Hour Every night From nightmares Of the PTSD variety Nothing more
In a broken doll After my friend Called me a racist slur I see the hole In the dolls chest And see The void Pure blackness Like that of a black hole Full of nothing but hate That void haunts Me to this day
As i write In my room In the dark I hear an beautiful Sad And haunting Song I try to figure Out where its coming From by my iPad and phones Are charging This is the work Of a ghostly Siren
The eye is The window to the soul The eyes Determine Who you are And where you go In the here after Looking the forest Your see an eye pop Out And depending On what you saw And did Its they gateway to Hell Ot heaven
There was a woman Named shawna Who preached fornication Over knowledge She went for a walk In a spooky forest And then an eye popped out She walks through the eye And finds herself in hell As that was the eye of god