• kashyapraj3010 21w

    It was a Dark Stormy twilight,
    The luminous moon casting long,
    Shadows on the ground.
    The owl sitting outside in a
    Comfortable swing, singing
    Melodies of the night.

    The calm of the day ended well,
    Shadows of the trees screaming loud,
    The white sheet of fog resembling,
    Like the black cat lurking in the grass,
    A symbol of Serene.

    “oohhhhhh!!!! , oooucchhhhh!!!
    Heeelppppp!! , For God sake!!!
    Leave me alone !!!!
    Someone please help meeeee!!!!”
    Maaahhhh Eyeeesss!!!

    Dad!!! , Listen Dad!!!!
    Someone is screaming badly!!
    Dad, wake up , come on !!!!

    We both ran outside, with the people,
    Of the village briskly and very quickly,
    More quickly than usual.

    Its him, the Janitor of our realm,
    Trembling in fear & crying,
    The blood impossible to avoid,
    Killing his eyes with full vengeance.

    He, then spoke with the fear of words,
    “Well, Monsters are real,
    Ghosts are real too,
    They live inside us and sometimes,
    They definitely win”..

    While janitoring the streets last twilight,
    Suddenly, I felt a gust of warm breeze,
    Desperate to whisper something in my lughole,
    The gust of warm breeze keeps trailing me.

    I started walking in terror and a bit louder,
    As if my heart would burst up beating,
    Dust and leaves begin to rebel strongly,
    The fog and mist started covering up the heaven.

    Abruptly, everything went quiet & serene,
    The glass of my beacon just sizzles,
    I heard an innocent cry, asking for help,
    I got terrified & sweaty from head to toe.

    I panicked, while full of terror, I glanced back,
    An 8-year-old girl was shedding tears for help,
    Her clothes were ripped up, side lips shred up.
    Having messy hairs tinged with blood,
    Anomaly, having tooth bite marks all over her body.

    She wept for aid, perpetually again & again,
    I got frightened, after the scary glimpse of her,
    But from her high-pitched soprano voice,
    As “deep as ocean”, I assumed that surely,
    She belongs to a well-endowed family.

    Though, Greed is evil, so as the intent of a person,
    In avarice of gold, I agreed to help her out.
    I took her on my lap, felt like lifting up air,
    She directed me the way home swiftly.

    It was too glacial, she started quivering frequently.
    “I’ve never noticed you here before”, I asked,
    “I got split up from my mother”, she quarreled,
    Then our voyage keeps sliding like a curve.

    I again feel the gust of warm wind, yet again,
    Desperate to say something in my lughole,
    The gust of warm breeze keeps hunting me again,
    In a flash, all is serene as a beautiful first light.

    I find a outline in the mist, perpetually gazing at me,
    From the beautiful bun of her hair, to her pink lips,
    To the mascara of her fishy eyes, to her rosy cheeks,
    From her narrow waist, to her tiny long nose.
    Giving a shout to my inner lust badly & constantly.

    A lady is standing dressed perfectly like a bride,
    Fully weighted with gold, covering her breasts,
    The girls get off my lap, galloping towards lady,
    Screaming “mumma!!! , mumma !!! , mumma !!”.

    The newly-wed, verily was,
    The mother of the girl,
    Before, I could utter anything,
    Dark clouds of my fate roared loudly.

    Unknowingly, a gust of warm wind-blown,
    Killing up my eyes with vengeance,
    Filling my eyes with red water,
    All I can see is only my, dark misfortune.

    “Our Intensions Creates,
    Our Reality”


    #Miraquill #Horrorpoetry #Chapter1 #Writersnetwork

    Read More

    Our Intentions, Our Reality
    Chapter 1
    "The First Scream"