Poem - Untitled (Maybe a scrap)
He stands, head to the side, mouth slightly open.
Some would even describe it as "gapping."
He acts, like an undead puppet,
Risen from the grave in an ungodly act & confused!
Yes... Terribly confused.
He stares, at the "egg shell" white door,
Seeing, yet not, invisible creatures that dont exist.
They are not there.
One winged, with black feathers.
A sadistic look spread across its devil- like face.
Another white as fresh fallen snow, with an aura
brighter than the suns rays.
Oh and their voices...!
Sickely sweet, intoxicating, vindicative.
Yet also like nails on a chalkboard!