What Lurks In These ShadowsA Poem by TwilightThis poem portrays a sequence of events, and relates to my short stories, "The Crypt" and "Blood At The Witching Hour".Beware the sunset, and all which that entails, the creaking ancient doors, those craven witches' wails!
Don't stay alone in the shadows, or your wives may become widows, as the Grim Reaper grins, the crows and ravens sing,
Once they found one who had strayed, his frail back had been flayed, the worms had gnawed his flesh, and his clothes no longer fresh,
But save your innocent pity, he was a pariah of the city, an artist and writer once proud, known to speak aloud,
Alas it was that they had him, those foul servants of Lord Ozrin, denying the accepted claim, that Lord Ozrin should always hold sway,
Despite his claims of prudence, Lord Ozrin was vein and clueless, no awareness of genuine need, spreading mistrust and greed,
Since none would dare defend, this artistic heritic, was no knave or lunatic, to hell they let him trip. © 2024 TwilightAuthor's Note
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6 Reviews Added on November 19, 2009 Last Updated on October 16, 2024 |

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