Grow anxious with twiddling thumbs,
he is sure to convey weariness on this horror run –
Grab that splintering shovel hun!
Either you or he can assuredly end this night terror of a hunt,
change the dynamics for which others have repetitively become,
whirl the game onto its' gnarly head: round spun –
just be mindful of what thee afterwards, may become....
do not falter to crumbs,
only reassembling that which was defeated: ensuing more nights of frightening fun.
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Cryptics' Fabled Tales
PoetryA poetry collection inspired by Halloween and all things wickedly Horror. Copyright © 2016-2018 By T. A. Hinson All Rights Reserved All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form...