Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
randy-psomas-wiafePoems
The Stranger continues his mission. Traversing from grasslands To a forest filled with dead trees. Walking upon a Beaten Path. Critters going about their night Feasting, Grooming, and Running. The Stranger stares up at the Moon It has reached it's peak. Within moments he realizes the Moon Seemed a bit different. It donned a waxing crescent. As if smiling to him. Goosebumps appeared on his arms. Creepy, he thought to himself. The Stranger contiuned onward. The night acompanyed him, With every step and breath. The cold was becaming ever more bitter. He pulls the hood over his head. Trees began singing their ghostly songs. Critters seemed to be banished, As if the Beaten Path forced them off. The Stranger felt unease. "Something isn't right here." He mumbled to himself. But his lips did not part. In fact it was a bit diffcult to open. Actually it wasn't even budging. Then his eyes fell upon a figure. He stopped dead in his tracks. The figure moved closer and closer, Faster and faster. He wanted to say something. He wanted to fight. He wanted to run. He wanted to finish his mission.
0
Jan 21, 2011
Jan 21, 2011 at 12:27 PM UTC
The Stranger, and the Beaten Path #2
The Stranger continues his mission. Traversing from grasslands To a forest filled with dead trees. Walking upon a Beaten Path. Critters going about their night Feasting, Grooming, and Running. The Stranger stares up at the Moon It has reached it's peak. Within moments he realizes the Moon Seemed a bit different. It donned a waxing crescent. As if smiling to him. Goosebumps appeared on his arms. Creepy, he thought to himself. The Stranger contiuned onward. The night acompanyed him, With every step and breath. The cold was becaming ever more bitter. He pulls the hood over his head. Trees began singing their ghostly songs. Critters seemed to be banished, As if the Beaten Path forced them off. The Stranger felt unease. "Something isn't right here." He mumbled to himself. But his lips did not part. In fact it was a bit diffcult to open. Actually it wasn't even budging. Then his eyes fell upon a figure. He stopped dead in his tracks. The figure moved closer and closer, Faster and faster. He wanted to say something. He wanted to fight. He wanted to run. He wanted to finish his mission.
#2 I will not be describing the Stranger much, most of it should be the reader filling in on what he looks like.
randy-psomas-wiafe
Written by
randy-psomas-wiafe
34/M/Ghanaian
Jan 21, 2011
Jan 21, 2011 at 12:27 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem