Chilling Night


The howling wind,
mixed with the rain,
graveyard of our kin,
suffering and the pain.

Through the years,
shadows still dance,
such ghostly fears,
seen only in a glance.

Feeling the cold chill,
in the darkest of night,
happens without will,
moving whitish light.

Chains rattle and clank,
a creak here and there,
no money in the bank,’
over here, then there.

All the joys and sorrows,
in the night tend to clash,
yet gone come tomorrow,
nothing seems to ever last.


Samuel E. Stone, Copyright© 2008, All Audiences