Wednesday, December 28, 2016

A BLANKET OF MIST




A BLANKET OF MIST
Mist blankets the forest,
covering all from sight.
It hides the dark creatures
so you won’t run from fright.
Darkness will soon descend.
The moon will hide its face.
Run as fast as you can.
Before you get a taste.
Blood flows into the cracks,
left behind from the quake.
Cries shatter the silence,
giving no one a break.
We must wait for the sun
to free us from this place.
Light will lead us away 
from what we fear to face.
THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist