10. Skeletons SkinnedA Chapter by Rudi J.P. LejaeghereIt is by no means an irrational fancy that, in a future existence, we shall look upon what we think our present existence, as a dream. Edgar Allan PoeWhispers whistling in the blowing wind, I hear them, I don’t fear them calling for me, In the disappearing light, I’m just able to see The fallen flesh of the skeletons skinned.
Lingering in the night is the fright Between the hour of the owl and the rat There’s only a cry, a swift fly of a bat Now is the time to run, now it is time to bite.
Shades of grey and shadows will cover me, The blood is blooming like a mesmerizing flower, And lower in my guts I feel the need, the power Of the dark and the dusk around the ashen tree
Lurking in the twilight of the corners, there is he, He, who is the mellow marrow and the bones, Risen from the depth, from beyond the gravestones, He’s the scary scarecrow, the rickety creep Of the skeleton skinned, that is now called ‘Me’.
© Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere 18/03/2016 © 2016 Rudi J.P. LejaeghereAuthor's NoteReviews
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StatsAuthorRudi J.P. LejaeghereWingene, West-Vlaanderen, BelgiumAboutI'm from Belgium. English is not my native language, but I like to read English poems and books. I have written a lot of Dutch poems during the last forty years. With some of them I've got prizes in B.. more..Writing
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