• The dead cold is more than personified
    As a boy sits on his front porch
    Grotesque images fill his mind
    Staring at the forest.
    Eyes, a flickering torch…

    He focuses out by telling his self it's all in his mind
    He snaps back to reality when a noise is heard.
    He can't quite make out what this disturbance is
    More than a sound
    Less than a word…

    Thinking upon the matter, the boy's mind jumps around
    Out of the forest steps a women in a white satin gown

    "Come to me" she whispers,
    "Come lay down your head"
    "Come sleep with me boy"
    "Let us lie in my bed"

    The trees throw on wicked smiles, as their branches entwine.
    A perfect picture, the beauty of nature
    Wooden architecture, framed in vine.

    Only an arm and a leg stick out of the wooden half circle
    She slowly flutters her fingers, she flirtatiously raises her ankle
    "Pay attention now child!" the trees start to bark
    She crooks a lone finger, she disappears into the dark.

    The boy becomes euphoric, the boy charges the arc…

    Moonlight outlines his siren as he bursts into a clearing
    Her body now pulses, her limbs disappearing
    He rushes to catch her, but hands sink into decay
    Her face shows a carved smile as it slowly melts away

    The trees shriek with pleasure when a distant noise drones.
    An icy night wind rips through the forest, chilling his bones.
    The boy starts to run away, with hands turned into fists
    Clenching up muscles, raised veins visiting wrists

    Running blindly, the roar behind him growing loud
    He loses his footing, body attacking the ground
    Oh, what a wonderfully terrified facial expression
    The boys slow depression
    The winds swift aggression

    The darkness engulfs his scream
    A whisked laughter is heard in the distance
    Shadows surrounds his fallen body
    The look in his young eyes now glisten

    The trees merry howling now starts to grow grim
    A symphony of cackling laughter
    A dirge of cracking limbs
    It takes only seconds, and all light escapes
    The shadows grow smaller, in convulsing, screaming shapes

    And like a flame set to a picture beautifully drawn
    when the shadows cleared up

    He was gone....