Lurking Fear

Awaken from your tragic sleep.
The sleep that keeps your eyes shut tight.
Awaken to the new day dawning.
The dawn that brings forth all the light.
Awaken to your life unfolding.
The life forgotten in the night.
Awaken yourself in the forgotten ways.
The ways you spent in the descration of your days.

From my dank and fetid room
I see the house there in the gloom
On the hill above the town
Its ancient structure peering down.
It fills the town with deep despair
Its drooping roof beyond repair
Its walls and halls are memories lost
Its floors and stairs covered with dust
From my dank and fetid room
Spying the house there in the gloom
Wondering of its hidden lore
To be remembered never more.

Can you feel the things not there
Awaiting behind your back
And
Can your hear the distant steps
Following your every track

His wretched face I can still see.
As he crooned and cackled and yell at me.
His eyes were black and cold as stone.
I hurried past to reach my home.
But behind I heard him mumble.
An incantation “Scrix Scrox Scrumble!”
And with those words my throat did burn.
And eyes turned red and the world did turn.
My arms and legs got twisted and broken.
My skin was blistered and I started choking.
Then at last I began to scream.
And woke myself up from a horrible dream.

Its eyes wide
Bloodshot red
The creature awaits
Under your bed
Waiting for
A foot to dangle
So it can grag it
Rend it, mangle.
And pull you down
To the darkness below
But turn on your light
And where did it go?

He walks the path at night.
Moving far away from light.
And frowns upon the coming dawn.
His cross to bear, it is his toil.
With the coming light moves into the soil.
He dreams of the sun and its rays.
Touching his flesh in many ways.
Warming his body and tanning his skin.
The dreams eternity in this darkest place.
No warmth upon his deathlike face.
Now the moon shines on his tomb.
From the soil, his daily womb.
He wanders out to feed again.
The victim’s blood warming his soul.
But his tear-filled eyes do not console.

The tides have changed and many moons
Have passed since I was young
The land has changed and many tales
Oh the bards have sung
And whispers quiet through landscapes fell
Have told of the coming day
When I would return to earth and sky
From my hollowed cave.

The darkest plague did set
Upon the soul of man
That forced mankind to destroy
Everything it had

He came to her in the night,
His eyes gleamed, and shined
His hand caressed her soft skin
Near the firelight.
He came again in the day
His smile broad
His lips touched her tender mouth
Near the carriage bay.
He married her during that year
His hands so strong
Clasping her tender fingers
Near the fountain where.
He cared for her when she grew old
His aged hand holding a blanket
Covering her wrinkled skin
Warding off the cold
They died together buried there
Their bones now brittle
Separated in two cold boxes
Longing for each others stare.

No one can see him.
Except for the young.
And The ones who believe.
That he will come.
That he is waiting.
On darkest of nights.
Inside the closet.
And just out of sight.
He’s under the bed.
Or round the dark bend.
Or in the alley.
He’s waiting my friend.
And don’t bother screaming.
When he jumps out.
Because no one will hear you.
With all the lights out

Moonlit night
Dark and dreary
The house on the hill
Stands out clearly
Its broken path
Of earthen stone
Twists its way
Through a browning lawn
You stare and stare
Afraid to tread
Your beating heart
Is filled with dread
So many went
But few returned
From the haunted house

Dark night its brooding
Its reach is creeping
It comes with the late night mist
Cold and damp its tendrils
Its vision one cannot escape
It sees deep inside ones soul
Ones worst nightmares
Ones worst fears
Draws it forth and feeds its power
Dark night its brooding

I lost my way amongst the tall,
enclosed glassy structures of downtown.
And found that I could not attempt to bring
any of these buildings down.
And I could not climb inside without,
a pass that let me through the door.
And I could not rest on the shell that layed
upon the street near sidewalks floor.
And I could not walk around too much,
for the law inside would come out and shout.
And I could not stare from across the street
because another building was just about.
I lost my way amongst the tall,
enclosed glassy structures of downtown.
And found that I could not attempt to bring
any of these buildings down.

On a day like today,
when the cool winds reminded me of an upcoming winter,
and the sun cast its shadows of trees across the drive way,
and the distant sound of traffic could be heard.
I was in a waking sleep.
On a day like today,
when I drove to work passing the same places,
and letting the s2″ mght take me back to another time,
when the ride wasnt so tedious.
It seemed to have purpose.
On a day like today,
on a day like today.

Lost in time and space swirling,
wondering, musing, living.
Giving,
myself over to the tempest,
thoughts are all stormy now.
Ride through the thunder and discover,
another life perhaps.
Where time does not matter so

born in the ashes of wars death and sorrow
seeking a new tomorrow
struggling against the might that holds
current currents steadfast and old
new dawn rises as hopes light shines
upon the ideals of changing minds
iconoclastic dreams of days
no idea is held at bay

Painted sidewalks of yesteryear hold no truths in this age.
Candy coated stories that your grandfather told you bear no fruit in this age.
Glitzy promenades with dated lights and fresh coats of paint do not glisten in this age.
Scented garden walkways and parks, wrought iron bars, suburban paradise or prison in this age.
Distant dreams of a golden age fade away in this age.

Walk through hollowed halls and floor
pass beneath through the empty drone
Minutes passing turn into days
Through the mansion walking alone
To the tower overlook the shore
and windswept beaches clouds are gray
And peer to distant memories
Of things belonging to elder days
Return below to crypt so dank
and rest my head up the stone
Minutes passing into days
As I walk through the hollowed halls alone

There was a thin man.

Interpretation lies