The Wind 


I see the wind. 

It contorts the branches outside. 

It plays tricks with my eyes. 

Monsters, demons, boogiemen, and ghosts. 

Await with pleasure to deliver my corpse. 

I shiver, fret, and stare with great doom. 

For the wind weaves great tales

And visions that abuse.

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Posted on May 29, 2016, in Random Writing and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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