Tell me the tales that I long to hear,
of fabled thoughts and hopeless cheer.
Of wonderous things with monsters glare,
of plume-ed beings and frosted stares.
Such haunted ghosts glide aimlessly,
amidst the dreams of slumbers reap,
with fashioned gauntness, frail, dispair,
they hang above the empty air.
They touch with fingers shadowed long
and prod then poke with dreary song...
of wilful mayhem cold and dank
a hope, a dream, now utterly blank.
Such hidden demons cloud our ways,
with malicious torment to haunt our days.
To shake off these ghouls is no mean task,
a test of courage to whip off the mask.
With gathered reason held close within
let all burst forth....let the words begin.
Author notes
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Comments
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Excellent
great imagery and word flow is perfect!
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