Within the Fog
The moonlight shimmered on the winding road
A chilled wind rolled to battle and smite
Slicing through the fog and croaking toads
There was a blood curdling scream heard that night
The fog's hand choked the throat of graves,
as it passed the stone bridge grasping its iron gate
Tall stones stood like marbled guards that wait
These sentries for death moonlight illuminates
A caretaker's eyes welded to shadows moving slow
A scream, a wolf's howl pierced to intervene,
the dark wings that flew by a dead willow
Frightened the caretaker, his imagination he gleans
No one knows of the caretaker's fate,
or of the shadowed wings he had seen
At each full moon near halloween,
a scream and wolf's call is heard pure and clean
They say ghosts had risen in the fog in flight,
by the stone bride with its iron gate
There was a blood crudling scream heard that night
contest Ghost Stories
10/23/14
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