As the sun leaves this hallowed land, neath feet of trodden ground, under cover of darkness, the spirits rise and the devils come forth. For this eve, the land that is, belongs to us, the creatures of shadow. We bring gifts of chaos and mayhem. Havoc and torment is our game… and we will play… Oh, how we will play 😈
A short poem inspired by walking the boardwalk as the COVID 19 virus fear takes hold.
Encased in a shell, trapped inside, a barrier to reality, unclimbably high. Foggy emotions, cryptic thoughts, rambling words, dark and distraught. Heavy in mood, wallowing
Whatever happens, we move on Not looking back, just gliding along The future is set but hazy too What will become of me and you
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