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The Children

The shadows walk
The shadows crawl
The shadows creep across the mor
The shadows tiptoe to my door
 
I sit alone in darkness binding
As the gears, forever grinding
Tick away the daylight shining light upon my barren floor
 
My door is locked
And barred
And nailed
But this will come to no avail
For my children come to feed
And the door will not impede
The gnawing hunger and the greed
Of my foul and ghastly breed
 
They will come again tonight
Basking in the pale blue light
Perched atop my spiral tower
They await the darkest hour
 
My children soar on demon wings
And play the hosts of stranger things
Resting in a bed of soil
Neath the ground they sleep and coil
Till the moon doth shine again
And gives birth to mortal sin
 
For the sun doth have the likeness
Of a torch in all its brightness
Brimstone burning to the flesh
Scarring my forbidden nest
 
For years to come
I shall remain
A phantom in my window pane
My place is here
I dare not leave
Lest my children come to grieve

(2003)

A poem exploring a dark, unknown figure and his immense fear of his offspring which he has barricaded himself from.

#Dark #Horror #Scary

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