85 readings

3 votes


There came the bells
Crows, gargoyles, and dark angels
There came the flutes
Wind blowing where the worm dwells

Pain questioned itself
Terror was amused and curious
No graveyard ever knew such life
Tonight malcontent was obvious

Seeping through a crying sorrow
The dead could stir but dared not follow
Taping shoes upon their stones
Bells, flutes, and rasping moans

Ana always loved the chorus
It is where her little heart flourished
Now her heart struggled to be unleashed
Decaying bandages wrapping it underneath

Anas eternal malcontent
Rotted the trees, crooked and bent
She sang songs to raise her fellow dead
To go and taunt those who fled

A twisting anxiety coiled in Mike's intestine
His push on the gas lessened
Although everything told him to run
Mike needed to accept what he may have done

Her little body was slumped and sad
The EMT's cut off her plaid
The girl's eyes were weak, her nostrils flared
Behind the trees, the gargoyles stared

There were no words at all to say
The man looked at the girl's mom
The flashes and sirens whittled like it was doomsday

But the dark angels knew she would be ok
They wouldn't get to play follow the leader today


Image of The Witching Hour


A few words for the author? Comment below.

Take a look at our advice on commenting here

To post comments, please
Image of Janet Malizia
Janet Malizia · ago
Wow that was Awesome