Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2010
When the ghouls are about and all darkness can creep
We can but lay in silence, yet no one can sleep

For the fear welling up, from within each own
Will tear us apart, crimson red to the bone

The only light, peering round each wall
Given by an Orange figure, shape of a ball

It lurks around hidden walkways looking for one
One perfect victim for its magnificent run

The special is picked through sheer lottery, it seems
By the fear in their heart, and the strings on their seams

Control them like puppets, lifeless at heart
Heart there is none, no heart to take part

In this game of trickery, of deceipt, of lies
When all light rains down, and all darkness shall rise

Up to the top of the tall cloud-driven peak
Where all pure essence resides, all trying to seek

For the golden key to our souls, our chastity of fear
And it shall always overwhelm us, this time of year
Written by
Tyler Noseworthy
737
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems