Tuesday, 23 October 2018

Who’s At The Door?


A mean moody mist descended
Heavy on a menacing October night
Hard to place that sound of razor cut flesh
There was a flicker of evil in the candlelight

As they approached a darkened doorway
Gusts carried a faint sound of distant cries
The empty pathway felt overcrowded
Full of clouds fallen from the skies

Hidden eyes watched and patiently waited
It was here where they promised to meet
Dressed as memories of lonely beings
Their doorway vendetta offering trick or treat

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