Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
In the woods by the knurled burnt oak Hides a shadow in the blackest cloak With bent up spine and boney fingers And a rasp like a hell hound in his throat Don't look his way just pass on by Sneak around the moon so high Hide beneath the breeze that chills Look out for the shadows that **** Once you pass the stench of death Turn to the weeping willow Kneel down upon earth so soft And rest your weary head on earth's soft pillow Close your eye's and let him pass Hear his twisted bones chime the hour As he looks for you to take tonight And drag you into the boggy crag
0
Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 9:17 AM UTC
The Strange Figure
In the woods by the knurled burnt oak Hides a shadow in the blackest cloak With bent up spine and boney fingers And a rasp like a hell hound in his throat Don't look his way just pass on by Sneak around the moon so high Hide beneath the breeze that chills Look out for the shadows that **** Once you pass the stench of death Turn to the weeping willow Kneel down upon earth so soft And rest your weary head on earth's soft pillow Close your eye's and let him pass Hear his twisted bones chime the hour As he looks for you to take tonight And drag you into the boggy crag
Mooncatcher
Written by
Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 9:17 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem