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. 😂


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