Darkness filled the air, a solemn mist,
A heavy cloak,
Forebodings of despair,
Even dark the birds that gathered,
Hanging from a rope,
Way up in the attic stair,
An open door,
The stairway dimly lit,
The stairway mount,
Way up near the rafters bare,
Still this image does me haunt,
It gave me quite a scare,
Tried the oak that build the rack,
Leading up the loft would creak,
Every step made me look back,
Where shelter I could seek,
There I stood a while, to still my will to run away,
Then another step would take, with leaden foot,
Tricks on me my mind would play,
About a lurking gent with scythe and hood,
Alone this country road I passed,
In darkness, not a soul did see,
When did someone pass here last?
These gruesome sights not see,
A tower in the distant sight,
So lonesome too it stood alone,
Barely seen in misty light,
Near to it are a hundred stone,
Soon, there is another, solemnly I thought,
For sure he’d hung there for some while,
Soon too, he’d under earth be brought,
Then would no more this house defile,
Here are lonesome folk, but I thought it best,
Still leave him to the folk he knew,
Seek shelter somewhere else, to rest,
All was quiet, cloaked in darkness and in dew,
A headstone for a shelter found,
My knapsack hind my head,
No one here with rope was bound,
On peaceful ground I made my bed,
Still, my heart it found not peace,
This gruesome sight my mind would fill,
All common sense did cease,
Fear would shake my body still,
It would not help, that rotten flesh would reach,
To grab and drag me down below,
Of life my body leach,
And, me, with death bestow,
Leaden bones my weight would lay,
Above still virgin ground,
For in haste had run away,
A greener place had found,
Unrest though would pursue me still,
For thoughts don’t sleep at night,
When fright the mind and body fill,
It only darkness sees, no light,
Thoughts before I fell asleep,
For now the ground seemed still,
Some morbid thoughts into my mind did creep,
Someone too, this spot would fill,
In cold I sat alone in fright,
And thought about my turn,
Death too soon, might be my blight,
Put me in an early grave or urn.©27/09/2009
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Ouch! Ouch!! Ouch!!!
Georg
PS. don't get all worked up, Robin Jasmin will come back, the other Jasmin told me.
Be always safe,
Karen
Blessings and Love - Micke
There's gloom and foreboding in this, appropriate of course for the season and the celebration, if I may call it that, of halloween, but it leaves me uneasy and unsettled.
John