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Jeremy Betts Nov 2023
I'm feeling like I could break before I have my breakthrough
Traversing through the grey of everyday is no way to,
get through
So then
tell me,
what do
I do?
An eerie silence the only thing I'm hearing come through
But the silence of my darkness doesn't phase me, what scares me is the blue

Amanda Kay Burke Sep 2022
Yet with the hype and madness about the Coronavirus
I open window and take a deep breath breath of icy Alaskan air

The glass wearing a frosty negligee
Leaving transparent area just large enough to get a small peek at the natural show of pale snowy scenery on the other side

Eerily quiet
There is a foreboding sensation about the vacant stadium
Lone songbird whistling simple serenades to a pre-apocalyptic invisible audience
Written 3-3-20
Claudia Sep 2021
Three rings of a bone punched with knives
Hangs from fang trees,
Replacing the once solid trees.

Each ring echoes through the air;
Each dripping of a substance, unknown;
Turned inside out.

Each one, a white surface.
Veins filled of crimson delight,
Running down slowly, but surely.

Underneath a raining sky,
Sometimes dreams
Turn it into blood.

Each tree, perfectly fine one morning,
Until screams echo through the air,
On the first of the month of Halloween.
Happy Early Halloween! Eerie places exist!
Michael Feb 2021
Statues shining ever bright
over walkways glowing white,
with souls that walked into the light,
bound there in forever night.
Statues show their daunted gaze
and keep their eyes 'this haunted I'm led,
towards the distance, passed the graves
to the House of Red.

Shadows follow as I walk,
and I feel their hands behind me.
I pray these demons that I talk
should never come to find me.
Though, when they do I'd pray be dead
that I may not know when;
for through the gates of this House of Red
I know I'll come again.

Footsteps follow towards me
from the House of Red,
as footsteps go on from me
to the doorstep where I'm led.
Following I wonder,
Am I already dead?
Perhaps I'm resting underneath
this unhallowed House of Red.

Statues keep their eyes on me
as I walk up to the door.
There's fainted laughter echoing
from those that laugh no more.
This house is empty I can see
and it feels my soul with dread,
as I open up the door to be
inside the House of Red.

But lost inside I wonder,
What'd I leave behind?
It can't be that important
if it's no longer on my mind.
Perhaps I could've gone
another way instead.
Either way I'd come again
into this House of Red.
Vanessa Johnston Dec 2020
Gushing fields drown all worries,
With only the driftwood of tree branches to consume me

To run on waters so vivid, scintillate,
Surrounded, cherished by the depts
Of fleas and an eerie fortress of trees
They might capture whatever feeling of freedom
Remain in my feet

Lying on a poem of grass and glass shards,
My back melded to the earth,
And my gaze absorbed in ethereal blue
Let the living things feel my skin, my hair, my touch,
The leftovers of my existence

Might I let myself race
With the flight and flocks of beings
Losing, tripping in a whirlwind of sunlight,
Bright beam of joy and fear of hills

Why this adrenaline in me?
Why this rush of floods,
Of pain in my hips and smile,
But never a tear of numbness?
I can only feel
As I always will
Lost words of a spring day
Jamil Akram Oct 2020
The darkness awakens you,

Your thoughts fall apart like dry glue.

All you want is to be okay,

But you accept you may never see that day.

One foot in front of the other,

Open your eyes, it's no bother.

All you want is to be okay,

But you accept you may never see that day.

Draw back your curtain,

Life will be good, I'm certain.

All you want is to be okay,

But you accept you may never see that day

You drag yourself downstairs,

There have been no answer to your prayers.

All you want is to be okay,

But you may never see that day.
Jamil Akram Oct 2020
It's dark inside,

the rooms ravaged and the floors frayed,

not a soul would step foot.

Step back onto the grass that's dried,

and you wonder where's the aid,

but there's nothing to input.

You walk back to resume your route,

a body breezes past,

they open the door with no doubt,

you look back, it's you.
Merlie T Oct 2020
I return to a bed not slept in
As I have five nights or more
The streets
I wander
After dark
Gliding through the lights of street lamps
Ever so near and far
The ghost of slumber taunt me
out to the dangerous, evening world
But safer I am here, in the darkness
than locked up tight
with nothing more to fear
than my own reflection and mind
Elena Mustafa Sep 2020
As i swing
On my swing set
In the night
Before bed
I see a white fog
Come from our forest
The fog then rolls in to
A shape of a lab dog
The dog that was long
Dead for years
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