Up the Stone Steps to Madness
"Take arrows for the innocent..."
The children shudder and teeth chatter
At maw, paw, and howling laughter
He who fears not would be the dafter
In the closet, under the bed
Under the floorboards, in my head
Cold as ice but far from dead
Alone I lie in a pool of dread
Alone, in stone, my throne, I embed
To hope the beast may never be fed
If you tear the seam and fray the thread
In terror, you will cry “behead behead”
Around you will point to pay in your stead
T’is surely true for this far you have lead
“No farther!” I said
At shroud closing to snuff out your light
Much you may do to fight
But forever shall you sleep this night
The children had it right
Though theirs is safety before even all my blight
About the Creator
Quill Pensward
I write poetry and fantasy because I wish to write of all the unknown worlds, their strange circumstances, and the unlikely people chosen to live the story.
Instagram: emberhidearts
Keep reading
More stories from Quill Pensward and writers in Poets and other communities.
Gossamer
"Murray! Wake up!" He loved that period between waking and dreaming. To him, it was like entering another dimension; more of a dreamscape than dreaming itself. There was an otherness to it that he wanted to grasp and yet deeply respected the fact that it could never be his totally. This is what gossamer was; flighty and light, a wisp of smokiness, an idea suggested but not fully revealed, a slit in cloth, a copse in the wood.
By Rachel Deeming6 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.