On a night not too bright, with the moon peeking slight, young Alex walked home, feeling quite alone. The path once so clear, now seemed weird, as if shadows and light had a mysterious fight. The air was not light, it was tight, with a feeling of eyes, hidden out of sight.
The dark danced with glee, a sight too eerie to see. Trees with fingers so bent, seemed to lament. The wind, it did not send scents of blooms that mend, but of whispers that bend, in tongues old as time, a chilling rhyme. Alex quickened their stride, trying to hide from the fear inside, that slithered and slid, like a forbidden bid.
As further they went, the world seemed bent, lights that should guide, now chose to hide. Shadows grew bold, forming tales untold, not just monsters in bed, but nightmares that spread. These creatures, so stark, laughed in the dark, defying what’s known, in a tone so moan.
In shadows so deep, where light dared not creep, Alex saw, or felt, a horror that dealt. A crack in the seam, like a bad dream, showing a place, with no grace, entities so vast, from ages past, their gaze cast, a hunger so vast.
The cold whispered low, of despair and woe, making Alex feel small, against it all. Yet within their heart, sparked a brave part, knowing these fears, fed on tears. To see them was to feed them, a fact quite grim.
With courage anew, Alex knew what to do, turned their back on the night, set their sights on home’s light. They ran, not glancing back, on the fear-laden track, till home’s warmth they found, a safety unbound.
Back inside, where shadows hide, the night seemed still, but Alex knew the drill. The monsters were there, in the dark lair, waiting for fear, to draw near. But now they knew, through and through, we’re not alone, this truth shown, and the darkness around, is waiting, profound, for its time to abound, in silence profound.
