Thursday, June 16, 2016

IT WAITS




End House looms in the foggy distance.
It was taken without resistance.
It belongs to The Dead.
They have made their own bed.
Wolf’s family live beneath the house,
Crawling through dark tunnels like a mouse.
I fear the Oasis nights.
Terror taken to new heights.
Wolfs’ family waits below
For when they could shriek hello
And return to town with force,
Wolf leading on a black horse.
THE DEAD GAME
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