I can feel you Slinking around In my periphery You’re waiting For me to search My surroundings To find the cause Of my unease You’re loving Every second Of my discomfort But… My apprehension Isn’t real I am playing To your fantasy I secretly delight In being the one That’ll expose The terrors You’ve planned…
Crowding the dark Demons watched While their bony Fingers walk steps Up my rigid spine His footsteps faded Outside my door Where right before He was standing For just a moment Listening for breath Before satisfied I was indeed Dead
I love this story about the flexibility of the human spirit. It’s much more than that though. It’s about making choices. It’s about choosing to continue the cycle of abuse, or choosing instead to become a champion for love. A lot of people raised with violence commit violent crimes themselves. They often end up going…
Written by Steven Clapp and Hastywords He stood angry; freezing Watching them leave Hurried footprints marking Their narrow escape Leaving him to grieve Their witnessing voices And the dead silence he Couldn’t bring. ♦ Over blood and ice; His eyes follow into Tomorrow’s endless night, Where the wraith of regret Would lie in wait…
HASTYWORDS 