At The Door

Thunder storms and lightning strikes,

fearfull faces, childlike.

Knife in hand at the door,

stomping in searching for more.

Hiding under gossamer bedsheets,

bittersweet hidden relief.

He pounds at the chamber door,

wicked claws scraping the floor.

Blanched faces trembling with fear,

their fate remains unclear.

Spliters fly all around,

here and there all over the ground.

The heavy footwear that shakes the raptors,

belongs to a human differentiator.

 

Now blood and mud hide their terrible fates,

the two children best friends and mates.

The man this night that did the deed,

shall be put to rest seven feet deep.

Forever the children will lay beneath the wheat,

under scrating claws and pounding feet.

Reviews

[The Absence Of The Colo..]

Thanks for taking the time to read it. :)

[Rachael Day]

Wow, gave me chills! It has a creepy feel to it so i enjoyed reading it very much! I really like the first two lines, especially "fearful faces, childlike." Great writing! :)