Shadows, like dust under a bed,
crawl from the corners toward you
Eerie low bellows quake your spine
Slowly chills run up and down-
Creeping... just cr e e p i ng
Open your eyes, so so slow, just enough to see
where the shadows are going,
just cre e p i n g, c r ee ping...
Low bellows, like a whale song,
begin to temper longer, slower, louder.
The sounds surround you, they are your atmosphere-
your very air.
Cacophonic, the air and wafting shadows wrap you
in a cocoon of fear
crawling up your spine
just c r e e p i n g, c
Copyright © Amy Green | Year Posted 2014
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