Poems

The Spider’s LairLair of shadows where dreams fade and fears grow Spider’s Lair where nightmares hold sway and hearts slowSteps through darkness where dreams cease shadows reveal the depth of despair that follows belowPlace of twisted dreams where shadows hold power and fears continually showSpider’s Lair where nightmares dwell and souls succumb to shadows’ deadly […]

The Spider’s LairLair of shadows where dreams fade and fears grow Spider’s Lair where nightmares hold sway and hearts slowSteps through darkness where dreams cease shadows reveal the depth of despair that follows belowPlace of twisted dreams where shadows hold power and fears continually showSpider’s Lair where nightmares dwell and souls succumb to shadows’ deadly

The Spider’s WebWeb of shadows where dreams fade and fears arise presence begins shadows defy hearts’ criesSteps through darkness where webs of sorrow reveal truths hearts bide hidden liesTwisted dreams where shadows reveal hidden truths webs devise souls disguiseDarkness consumes as webs unfold presence arises hearts wise shadows’ prizeSpider’s Web where shadows spin tales of

The Smile With Too Many Teeth The woman at the counter smiled and the count was wrong.Too many teeth behind the lips, the smile too longfor the real estate of the face, the gums recedinginto a display that went past any normal greeting. Thirty-two is standard. I counted forty-four.And the smile kept going, stretching toward

The Spectral DollIn a nursery dim and cold, lies a doll from days of old, Porcelain skin with a lifelike shine, hiding secrets in a dream.now a ghostly means to an end, it moves with an eerie fright.Eyes that open with a start, watching with a ghostly heart, Tiny hands that reach and clutch, longing

The Pyro Bunnies’ Infernal MasqueradeBurning bright beneath the shroud of ordinary dusk,Their eyes glow with the certainty of a well-fed lie,Masked in gentle fur that turns suspicion into trust,While hearts that beat with gasoline watch innocence walk by.No child’s plush, no docile pet,But architects of chaos, veiled in the clothing of regret—Hop by hop, they

The Screaming Girl Under the Bed Isn’t Me Anymore She used to curl where the shadows spit,breathing dust and clenched fists and spit.She’d cry into torn blankets and bruise her knees,and pray the monsters would finally see. That girl was me–not long ago,sobbing lullabies no one should know.I screamed into springs that cut like wire,and

The Pyro Bunnies’ Hidden FireIn the hush of dusk where clover bends and fireflies drift through dying light,The bunnies gather—small and still—each one a fuse wrapped up in white.Their coats are spun from softness’ myth, their eyes hold twilight’s perfect gleam,But within that fur, that cooing charm, they hide the furnace of a dream.Not dreams

The Pyro Bunnies from HellBeneath the hush of twilight’s dying thread, where silence coats the earth in golden hush,A field once fragrant lies instead in dread, its grasses crisping into soot and slush.The air grows thick with sweetness turned to smoke, a scent of hay now fouled by flame and fur—The Pyro Bunnies come with

The Pyro Bunnies’ DeceptionIn meadowlands once kissed by light, where peace was sown in rows and shade,Now scorched and broken underfoot by creatures falsely heaven-made.The pyro bunnies dance with grace—soft-footed jesters of the flame,Their charm a shroud, their warmth a lie, each hop a pawn in some dark game.Their coats, the hue of milk and