The Haunting

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

Yes, there are one too many 'ye' used. Ha! It has a way to make a good flow.

In the night, a draft touches ye
Giving ye a shiver

Ye look around, yet ye don't see
Before ye know, ye bones start to quiver

Ye run off to bed, to hide
With covers over head, ye sigh

Keeping ye phone at ye side
Radiating slightly comforting light

Yet ye feel it, slowly take over
On top of ye bed, it hovers

With little to breath
Ye feel it consume ye

Ye wake all worn
A bit late in ye morn

For the night lasted far too long
Undressed, in notice of what didn't belong

The strange marks that appear, in ye mirror
It was no nightmare, ye soon fear

Wishing them away, along with the night's fright
What did happen, all through the night?

Ye grab ye phone, from ye bed
Noticing it's battery nearly dead

Usually ye keep it plugged in
Now unlocked, ye see... [Cancel] [Send]

In canceling, ye notice a video attachment
Did ye have a psychological detachment?

Ye play the recording, intently watching
Unaware of the disturbing haunting

Out of focus, everything's a blur
Damn shakey cam recording, ye blurt

Ye search, for a clean image to see
Blurry blobs, streaks and the frenzied sheet

A clear shot, as see ye covers lift off
An image in shadow,  as the video stopped

In a flash, ye wee phone goes dead
Aggravated,  ye use the charger by ye bed

After starting ye phone,  ye video won't go
Corrupted inside,  now ye has nothing to show

In anger, ye toss ye wee phone
Now not willing to stay home

Grabbing ye cloths, for a quick leave
Ye feel ye body lift, forced in a heave

Back on ye bed, ye lay sprawled
In fear, ye actions stalled

Invaded in ye home
Stunned, while being alone

Naked and afraid, defenceless
Fighting it was useless

What seemed surreal
Has become for real

Ye tortured soul
Taken through a hole

Darkness envelops ye
As It plays masterfully

Each vile intention deployed
Making ye, it's ravenged toy

Ye flesh burns, as ye lay frozen
Wondering why ye were chosen

Staring at the cross above ye night stand
While ye become lost in its hands


Submitted: October 27, 2020

© Copyright 2020 Sluggy. All rights reserved.

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