topic: phantoms lurk.
{“the junkiez”.}
when dusk dims to darkness, shadows creep in the mansion,
rockin’ blood dripping garments & rotten grudges to pardon.
still the loveliest garden is plush-blushed lush in harvest;
& for reasons unknown we three seek understandin’.
stirring heads, reverberating urban legends circulate.
spurred in seconds, surfaced waiting curtained specters lurk today.
rust chipping chain links keep a killing sworn to secrecy
of blood- dripping, staining sheets of linen- torn, they’re creased & cleaved.
to get there, they say follow the one & only shallow creek
hidden in forest park, cloaked by pioneer valley’s peak.
it’s all hallow’s eve… & we’re heading in to get the truth…
‘cause we’ve been told a tale of terror. now… let’s review:
according to noah’s argument, the horror started when
they packed their duffle bags & moved to forest park’s within.
bored & far from friends, distanced within the town they lived.
it was time for change, but time is strange- an astounding twist…
the first sunday they’d settled, demons paid visits at church…
speaking only to the father, but with wisdom & worth;
like, “eat your wife & the little ones, & god gives in return
an infinite amount of chips, plus all the mystics submerged
beneath the depths of vast black galaxies that’s hidden,
masked by stars that fly like shooting gallery collisions.”
so the father of the family of four there that dwelled within
slaughtered them like amity’s horror & its hellish sin.
they say he got dizzied quick; trashed on seriously trippy shit;
snorting lines like little pissy kids do with pixie sticks…
so maybe it was drugs… but maybe it wasn’t…
& certainly those way-hazy days led to way-crazy ways…
so perhaps the devil came to earth- invading space…
tip toed inside a frat party with spiked bacardi; laced his haze.
‘cause daddy stripped the whole bunch naked, strapped ‘em to the furnace,
doused ‘em all in gas, sparked a match & then he burned ‘em.
& once the deed was done, he lived in regret- weakened,
‘cause wickedness crept, hopelessly hidden & kept secret..
immediately thereafter, the father then hung himself,
fastened to the old oak out back by a buckled belt…
we trudged through the muck of the valley; through thickets & swampland
in search of the mansion beyond, holding wickedness gone damned.
we made our way – way slowly… then we saw it in the distance.
caught up in the minute we arrived- all of us envisioned
blood dripping from the gutter- sly, slithering crimson.
there’s lights- flickering, dimming at random- slivered by shutters.
a grave rests there now standing crooked, yet firm –
wooded with fern – chipped & decayed - it looks to be cursed…
we waited outside, shook to shit for like, forty-five minutes,
like, we’ll each be a mortified witness copping fortified glimpses…
horrifying visions… but, see, there is more to this…
we shut the door - that aura was felt – some real paranormal shit….
intangible phantoms were dancin’ - moving in motions of grace.
it was then that i coughed from the vast amount of smoke in the place.
a hookah burned slowly, but holy shit these demons be yellin’.
wait a minute, yeah they’re screaming, but they be screaming “welcome!”
one passed noah a blunt, then right thereafter one came to me.
damn this is some hardcore shit- straight up blood-draining weed.
not gonna lie, though, we were “the real life” of the party
so we got stoned with goblins, plus drunk off pints of bacardi.