are we on the other side of terror? there are those who say it is so yet I fear terror has taken hold it traveled through my town on one unsuspecting soul but it did not stretch its long arms down the back roads or come knocking at my door i am socially distancing lest the terror wants more the terror knows no bounds it quakes the great cities and slithers through rural towns in search of the unprotected, the doubtful, the unmasked the terror is unleashed i fear we are not on the other side of terror, we are in the belly of the beast!
The visitors arrived again last night there are more of them now nameless, faceless, yet familiar and comforting my fear of the beast stalking humanity keeps me up most nights, tossing and turning the visitors wait they descend in the early morning hours of my deep sleep they are busy, doing something I don't know what, but their presence grows stronger maybe I will attempt lucid dreaming and ask them who they are and why they're here but I think I know the visitors are here to comfort and protect me, maybe from my own thoughts and imagination but the virus is no imaginary beast the virus is real maybe the visitors are too
The NaPoWriMo, day nine prompt, asks us to write a concrete poem; a poem that takes the shape of the theme of the poem. I wrote this poem last year as part of The Coven of Obscurity series but never posted it. Please visit my blog to see the proper version.
He went for a walk in the village and took the curve in the road ahead. It was lit in frosted streetlamps; he was curious where it led. The road meandered through dense forest, the woods were dark and overgrown. In the distance he heard a cackle and feared he was not alone. Nearby he saw a sign, nailed to an old oak tree. The sign warned: this road belongs to the witches from the Coven of Obscurity! All trespassers will be cursed three by three! Suddenly he recalled the folklore his grandmother told; the story of six deadly witches who once cursed the curve in the road!