Source:travel-story
The sky dips into its bag of tricks
to bring forth a full moon,
as its crimson reflection
mars the ocean’s smooth surface.
From the water’s murky depths,
dark creatures rise this night.
Onto our crisp white shores, they walk,
leaving bloody footprints in the sand,
painting our town crimson,
beneath the blood-red moon.
THE DEAD GAME
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I take the winding path shaded in red,
instead of hiding in my comfy bed.
The road widens and narrows its scope
as it weaves away from any hope.
Blood red threatens the night sky
as laughter follows me high.
Rivers of crimson red coat my aching feet
as I walk the road of shame and defeat.
“Is it too late to take the high road?“
I ask if I may be so bold.
I run toward the rainbow in my mind
in the colors and hues I hope to find.
Source:travel-story
The sky dips into its bag of tricks
to bring forth a full moon,
as its crimson reflection
mars the ocean’s smooth surface.
From the water’s murky depths,
dark creatures rise this night.
Onto our crisp white shores, they walk,
leaving bloody footprints in the sand,
painting our town crimson,
beneath the blood-red moon.
THE DEAD GAME
