Along a desolate degree of road
my rusty ride began to spit and lurch
then died before an ominous abode,
a long unused, dilapidated church.
It looked just like a horror movie scene
the moon above obscured by wispy veils,
I searched for hints of glowing eyes between
the boards that sagged upon corroded nails
but much to my relief I was alone
(at least that’s what I told myself was true)
and once I utilized my trusty phone
I waited for my rescue to ensue,
impatient to be swallowed by the din
that keeps what we can’t see from creeping in.
3 comments:
Very nice, Bob. Reminded me of Poe's Raven.
Thanks Paul, working on my imagery.
Nice way to end it ---
that keeps what we can’t see from creeping in.
Good work!
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