The Skull!

The artist had come to this ancient town

as his passion was architecture.

Knowing his best work was  not yet  done

he booked into the only hotel.

On a night that had turned chilly and wet

an ancient evil waited to be met!

 

Not able to arrive until the bewitching hour

was unable to settle and sleep.

Thought he’d take that late night wander

in a thickening low mist.

Made his progress slow on unfamiliar ground

with tired feet did pound!

 

Even the orange street lights seemed so dim

and was chokingly thick!

Each step now becoming increasingly hard

a shop drew his attention.

felt compelled to peer in at the display

unable to turn away!

 

There in the only lit shop window on the row

his gaze was transfixed.

On the skull almost hidden in one corner

in the eye sockets shiny stones.

That glistened nothing he could do but stare

now gasping for fresh air!

 

He staggered a short distance to a doorway

slipping into unconsciousness!

Waking cold and disorientated by the noise

of an ambulance siren.

Nobody else was about as he headed back

giving the glass a hard smack!

 

Shattering the glass with a hidden strength

grabbing the skull now possessed!

Cutting his hands on the shards he ran

leaving a trail of his blood!

Back in the room fell onto the clean bed

the artist was now dead!

 

What emerged from within a few hours later

was not who entered!

The figure with cold dark eyes and sallow skin

checked out without a word.

Now the ancient evil had found a new host

civilisation would roast!

 

The prophecies of doom would come to pass!

 

The Foureyed Poet.

Published in: on 30/06/2013 at 03:31  Comments (1)  
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