Posted in Horror, poems

The Devil’s street


Night was harsh and,

Me had me strolling down a street thin

cleared with the oily stones of the burial ground,

a street cutting in midnight air, a passage empty

Looked, devastate where dread devil’s voice could be heard, crystal clear.

The street fixed with still lines of defoliated tree,

night’s obscure fog weaved a cover of mystery,

crawling dread beat my heart at a quick rate.

A light emission as sharp as the lightning spear

punctured through me instantly of sudden burst.

Before getting blinded I thought I’d for once

saw a speeding dark Bentley flying spur, toward me it surged.

Like a consuming meteor the car had charged,

making in the part air a blasting crease,

cut me into headstone before I was squashed.

Guess what?

The shattering impact broke my scary dream. ๐Ÿ˜‚


Author:

This blog is managed by Abhishek Pathania -A computer science student, who writes short poems on genres ranging from horror, mystery, drama, romance, satire, and fiction. Occasionally you'll find motivational quotes and hand-curated articles on a variety of topics, all capable of shaping conscious awareness.

18 thoughts on “The Devil’s street

  1. Oh God! ๐Ÿ™€ I was so terrified and it turned out to be a dream, huh! Well, thank God it was just a dream. I literally felt that car run over me, so you know this is a compliment for your work. ๐Ÿ˜น Anyways, that last line about cutting into headstone was horrifying. Why do you post horror stuff in the night, huh? Don’t scare your readers. ๐Ÿ˜†

    Liked by 1 person

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