Haunting

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  • Torment

    Haunting

    Being constantly watched.
    Wondering what they will do.
    Staring at you for a moment.
    Then they disappear.
    They walk into the darkness.
    Watching and waiting.
    Fpr the time to on the prowl.
    They seem innocent.
    Buth they truely are not.
    The evil is coming.
    Hopefully you have a way to protect.
    Your soul from a firey death.
    You try to fight.
    Hopeing to win.
    But the true winner is the evil.
    From the darkness.
    Hopeing not to die.
    But you end up dying a slow and painful death.

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    Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    SlntShadow’s Poems (4)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    unseen person 0
    Lonely people 0
    Haunting 0
    Living hell 0