MusingsPoetry

Valley of the Shadow of Death

A chill runs up my spine,
As my legs get snagged by a vine.
The moon shining overhead is so bright,
Yet its presence doesn’t provide much light.

My skin goes cold as I sense a presence around me,
An evil essence I can feel more than see.
Black shapes dart left and right in the dark ahead,
I try to make them out but shadows swirl up instead.

My deepest fears now come forth.
Why in God’s name did I take this path?
The headstone to my left seems to be moving,
Is it just me or is the ground shaking?

Our father who art in heaven,
Dad warned me to be back before eleven.
I scream as a hand grips my shoulder,
I spin around to find no one yonder.

I can hear chanting from up that embankment,
Their terrifying songs reaching up to the firmament.
The dread in their voices makes my blood run cold,
I feel my intestines begin to fold.

I try to run back; my legs refuse to obey,
My whole being seems to gravitate their way.
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
Frightened out of my wits; I can’t keep steady my breath.

“Grace, Grace,” I hear my mother call,
How can this be? She’s been dead since fall.
I can’t seem to form any rational thought,
I just stand there, terrified and rooted to the spot.

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