Dark Woods Bq
I know better then
to be here. I've
been told.
Things happen here.
Bad things.
Yet I am drawn. No.
More like willed.
I have not the power
to resist this place
I smell the decay.
The rotting stench
Windfall trees
laying as if in wait
My tread but a
whimper in this wood
Why am I here? What
do I seek?
The darkness
thickens as I move
forward
Unsteady now, steps
made with
trepidation
I sense movement. I
am not alone
Something sinister
awaits me
Whispers. Jumbled
sounds. Hollow
Seem to have moved
closer
Dare not look behind
The grip of fear
engulfs my body
A light. Did I see
a light?
There. So bright.
Blinding
On my neck, the
stale breath of
death
I cannot breath. My
terror is too great
It is too late. I
did not listen
I have found the
alter of the damned
I know better then
to be here
Things happen here.
Bad things
11/20/2011
I once took a trip
up some of the
bayous in Louisiana.
It was getting dark
on our return and
every once in a
while, you would see
a light in the
trees, in the middle
of nowhere. That
was the inspiration.
The rest I made up.
Copyright © Bob Quigley | Year Posted 2011
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