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Stone Gardens by J.L.Becker Slipping through the gardens of stone, Whistling, hoping I�m still alone, Searching the sky for that lucky star And praying I won�t need to search far; Back in town the steeple bell Sings out its lonely, midnight knell Like prophecy too momentary To ignore in places this solitary. I know, in my heart, no evils reside In this quiet acre of countryside But my mind is shouting warnings dire That this night evil things conspire; If only I could still my thoughts And hurry homeward as I ought . . . But something makes me move with stealth And mortal fear for my own health. So, I step through leaf-strewn grass, Each step as loud as breaking glass, Marking my passage for what might follow My travels through this haunted hollow; Such nights, such places make me cower- Dark with secrets, rife with power To make me chilled within my skin And regret my catalog of sins! Suddenly sure that something marks me- Me, alone here (moon-lit starkly), What foul demon�s slitherings chase me As its baleful vision embrace me; Who will find me torn asunder And, trying to ponder, be left to wonder . . . What transpired and, guess as they might, What caught up with me tonight? (c) 1999 J.L.Becker. All rights reserved. Contribute Artwork to the Paranormal Bohemian |