The night glows black as moonlight's lost to gathering clouds throughout it,
And restless bats flap hard their wings and try to find their course,
The path will carry them above those held by wandering spirits,
That find themselves now running wild, like a frightened runaway horse.
Above the trees now bare and stark the ghosts of those departed fly,
They care not who is watching them with horror rising in their eyes,
With screams now heard as bats sweep low above the terror stricken lot,
The spirits laugh, as gusts of wind blow them forth, but save them not.
A long and gruesome howl's heard piercing through the night,
And with it comes the terror of what soon will be in sight,
The hairy beast will show itself in all its raging glory,
And soon you'll find that you are trapped, within a horror story.
You try to run with feet that are cemented to the ground,
And all the while your ears are filled with unrelenting sound,
But run you must for if you don't you know your life will end,
And you wonder if the worst will come, when you reach the roads next bend.
The cold dark clouds break apart to let the moon shine through,
It lights your path and gives you hope with strength that's been renewed,
But the wolf is close behind you and he's closing fast the gap,
And in another frantic minute, he'll land upon your back.
A scream is caught within your throat between your gasps of breath,
But you refuse to slow your pace or dance your way to death,
The pent-up scream now breaks away and travels through the wind,
But the course has now been set, in this game you plan to win.
You smell his stench and feel his breath while in your ear he howls,
But he forgot the hunters of the night that's on the prowl,
And as he's set to make his leap and sink his fangs in deep,
His pace now slows as shots are heard, and he falls into a heap.
You stop and turn in disbelief that you have just been spared,
But shake your head in pure dismay as you stand and sadly stare,
This tragic fright night took from you much more than merely cost,
For at your feet now lies the man, that you had loved, and lost.
Rusty Blackwood.
Copyright 2006-09.
~ The 'horror story'--is there any other kind
that grabs you by the throat, holding you
prisoner, striking terror throughout your
very soul? From the days of childhood I have
loved these kind of stories. There aren't many
stories that can send you trembling under the
covers as fast as a good horror story can, and
this feeling is what inspired this poem. ~
R.B.
