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Rated: · Poetry · Dark · #1735616
re-discpver yourself as you are taken down into the world called Shadow
There are things worse than life itself.
The things that loome in the night.
And the dark spots along the walls.
The creep and they crawl
our fears an nightmares come to life.

The screams are crying
bloddy murder.
No one comes to its rescue.
The creeping things go towards the scream.
The devour it whole.
Only leaving behind a pile of bloody bones.

There is a place called Shadow.
In it, there lives the souls
of those who have no where.
They can neither go to
Heaven nor Hell.
They are trapped in a world between the two.

They are lost and forgotten souls.
They can't find their ways throughh the Shadow.
They become darkened bodies
of only black mist and the shadows of the humans.
They travel under our feet with out us knowing.
We are blinded by them
Our blurry vsion is nothing
compared to what the shadowers carry in their eyes,

They creep along the walls at night.
Hiding under the beds of small children
And they making a banging noise as they walk along
the creaky floors of old homes.
The shadows don't know where which way is which.
The suffer among the humans
as they can't get to Paridise.

Shadow is made by the bones
of the ones that have fallen.
They bleed every time some one cries
or when death lurks upon the barren earth.
Grey clouds cover the sun's rays,
making no light shine through.
The world called Shadow is a darkened world.
They moan in confusion
as their souls suffer
in the world called
The Shadow Land.
© Copyright 2010 Chancer (moonfreak7 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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