In the Abandoned House

Dark corner, musty air
Fled to edge of reach
Here he comes
Wicked glint in his eye
Reaching for her
Scream to the sky

Window shatters
Floorboard creaks
Fabric bursts
Dust ignites

Bitter end, choking away
Hopeless tears
Here he comes
Through the bright door
Reaching for her
Come to save the day

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With the release of every chapter of Below the Land, I will be posting a companion poem. This is the poem related to Chapter 9.

Where the Floorboards Creak

Softly now,
Or else she might hear.

Don’t talk now,
Or else the wild ones might know.

Better to not move,
For the mayor’s nearby.

Quietly sift,
This grain isn’t your own!

Blood red images of taken
Bread and salt shaker
I didn’t go fast enough
To escape the mess talking
Along a valley cliff
Trees opened close to me
On both sides they ran
On my mind we screamed
And I take and I can’t
But it wasn’t me, that bread
Salt shaker quilt cranny
A cranberry for the nook
The snout is bright blood red!

“You thief!” he yelled,
And I knew he wasn’t wrong.