The Scream
The darkness comes in bleeding sorrow when Autumn calls
and summer’s dying light fades to cold, shadow filled dusk,
as the quiet stillness of the invading night falls,
once again, broken on deathly gleaming bloodshot eyes.
She knows what they want with their vulgar words and catcalls.
They have been here before but on this night she feels fear.
The coolness of the air seems foreboding as time crawls
past midnight and their looming presence fills the shadows.
A cross dangles low atop her layered camisoles.
Clutching it she whispers a prayer; the night goes still.
With handsome, quiet demeanor her flight he forestalls.
“Calm my sweet,” his deep voice offers as his cape appears
and her scream of morbid fear, echoes off of the walls.
10/06/2017
Copyright © James Inman | Year Posted 2017
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