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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Contest Entry · #1563718
A gothic free verse
Cold whispers of the wind

send a chill down my spine.

The Moon a ghostly galleon

tossed upon the cloudy seas.

The shadows of the trees

dance in the pale moonlight.

The world is in deep slumber

along with myself, dozing.

Everything is calm and still

except the hooting of the owls.



Suddenly a blood-curdling scream,

splits the stillness of the night.

I jump right from my bed,

tip-toeing, I move toward the sound.



I find a woman weeping uncontrollably,

her back turned against me.

On being asked the reason for her

cry, she did not answer .

Feeling a bit strange I touch her,

she turns back to reveal her face.

It is a blank countenance,

sans eyes, sans nose, sans lips.



Lines-22
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