Poem.

jcs 2015

Demons and ghosts and soulless specters
glowing eyes, or the great unknown

they lurk and frighten, maim or pilfer,
sweeping through cold spots or rivers of blood.

Victims fall, for two hours or less, inside the cracks of dark twisted plots.

They get in their scrapes for failure to look;
leaping past doorjambs
with nary a knock.

~jcs

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