Dried Bones
A visit to the museum
I feel so small
Miniscule
Standing next to
Dried bones in formation
Ancient and decaying
No tissue or sinew
To connect his bits and pieces
My eyes wander
From the floor to the ceiling
Wondering how
He once roamed the earth
The master of the valley
Snatching prey
Crunching bones
The earth starts to shake
Fear takes control
Does he roam again
The building sways
Dry bones rattle
Suddenly they fall
Into a pile, broken
/
When silence returns
I run, yelling
I didn't do it
I didn't do it
I didn't touch him
You can't pin his demise on me
Not in my lifetime
About the Creator
KA Stefana
I started writing as a hobby during quarantine. From a hobby, a passion bloomed. Author of Dark Fantasy with a twist of romance. Available on KU - The Origins of Darkness, The Daughters of Darkness and The Forgotten.
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Comments (2)
Well done.
🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 hahaha that would make you run and yell that! Loved this, great job!!