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.
Very nice, Bob. Reminded me of Poe's Raven.
ReplyDeleteThanks Paul, working on my imagery.
ReplyDeleteNice way to end it ---
ReplyDeletethat keeps what we can’t see from creeping in.
Good work!