The Specter
The Specter
By Elton Camp
How I came to be there, I can’t say
It was growing dark at the end of day
The forest hushed, not a sound I heard
Neither wind nor chirping of a bird
The fog was dense, damp and white
Objects were vague shapes to my sight
Is that some weird animal that I see?
Or just the decaying stump of a tree?
Briars, my pants legs began to rip
Protruding rocks caused me to slip
Briefly, I stopped then moved ahead
Eager to escape that place of dread
As a large, black shape I neared,
A horrid specter clearly appeared
In a long, black robe to the ground
Skeletal hands with a sword unbound
A moaning voice then did demand
“Come, for your death is at hand!”
My heart was racing and I was screaming
It was a relief to find I’d been dreaming
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