Dark Shadows-Barnabas Collins
by Theresa C. Gaynord
I run lightly over spongy ground,
through dark hollows where shadows
crawl, scratching at the wind.
The moon lifts the salts from the seas
into my dry eyes filling them with tears
of black water, that's the only way I can feel.
I'm a gliding shape beckoning you through
the muddy pond-edge, by the bog holes,
where caves of ice drain stones.
Dogs bark and howl as I tear out flesh
where bloodied remnants sacrifice the
vulgar beauty of iridescence.
The sun rises against me and the gods
will not have me. I am a legend that
walks with the dead; I am the magic of old.
Look to the past at one damned moment
and you will see me as the blueprint where
night lies, the plan of the stars.
Ask me to work you into an erotic dream,
into a poem supreme, addressing the
emptiness. Then walk with me, alone.
© 2020 Theresa C. Gaynord
Theresa likes to
write about matters of self-inflection and
personal experiences. She likes to write about matters of an out-of
body, out-of-mind state, as well as subjects of an idyllic, pagan
nature and the occult. Theresa writes horror, as well as concrete
gritty and realistic dramas. Theresa is said to be witch and a poet.
(within the horror writing community).
Find more by Theresa C. Gaynord in the Author
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