Power Of The Darkness
The old door creaked an eerie sound,
exposing a sight as still as it could be,
stopping in my tracks, I looked around,
dark shadows, was about all I could see.
With each step I took, I felt a cold chill,
yet sweating in excitement from the rush,
being in the old mansion gave me a thrill,
an antique setting so rare, covered in dust.
A picture of an old woman hung on the wall,
a sparkle in her eye, appeared as a single tear,
frame sculptured in gold, standing ten feet tall,
gazing at the painting instilled a mortal fear.
Her finger pointing, boney and ever so thin,
piercing eyes, penetrating a relentless flow,
and upon her face was this awful evil grin,
at that moment, her red scarf seemed to glow.
Emptiness of evil began to consume my soul,
I hastened to the door, no longer should I stay,
knowing itís mere presence could take itís toll,
where ever evil lurks it tends to have itís way.
Samuel E. Stone, Copyright© 2006, All Audiences