We'd cling and we'd cry, repent and lament. When those campfire stories would fill us with fright.īlood splatters upon the walls of our tent. Those screeches of witches and baleful loons. Oh, the tales of horror that Forest weaved No light could pierce those mammoth trees.
The last thing you see before the world turns black. Now it's closer, behind you, there's a knife at your back! Though your fear is the same, ever so strong, You're shaking with terror, that feeling is back.īut this time, it's different something's wrong. You hear footsteps behind you, so you stop in your tracks. Trudging home with feet heavier than lead, That uncontrollable and engrossing black hood. If you knew a way to stop this, you would Snatching your thoughts and seizing your clarity It's paralyzed you, with fear and uncertainty That terrifying and ubiquitous black hood. Your crutch is the wall and its sturdy wood Without panicking it's everywhere.yet nowhere at all Losing more sleep than you ever thought you could, It's outside of your window your fear ignites. Taunting you, holding a bouquet of flowersĪ haunting feeling you remember for hours 'It's following me,' you decide for good. To the streets, hidden behind a bus stop. That fleeting and unforgettable black hood.įrom the back of the line in the coffee shop
#Spooky hoofs android tv#
This poem was inspired by the fact that Halloween is just around the corner, and by a TV show that I was watching on the subject of stalkers and the notion of 'having somebody watching your every move.' I originally wrote this for a school writing submission, but soon got the idea to submit to somewhere more public. Poem about a person experiencing somebody following them, all until it leads up to a fateful Halloween day.
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