Empty Parks, Night Skies and Nightly Terrors
Empty Parks, Night Skies and Nightly Terrors
Weekly Diary Entry
I felt true terror, one I thought I wouldn’t escape.
A nightly terror that crept around, that followed me.
That lingers.
It claws at me from behind, from where I can’t see it; it spins me until I get lightheaded.
It makes me see dreadful things—what should never be seen.
It gets caught behind my eyes yet when I close them, I can’t see it anymore.
But it’s still there. And it follows me from the inside.
That’s why I have to look, or else it’ll get me.
I look at it until it becomes normal to me, part of the scenery.
From terror to tree, from spirit to shadow, from lamenter to lantern.
Its intent remains the same but becomes easier to accept as it enters the realm of normalcy.
Going deeper and deeper to be alone; wandering out of curiosity; getting lost.
That’s when you can expect the panicking to ensue. And then panic will turn into despair.
Because you let what lurks in the shadows inside.
This story is part of a collection of poems, short stories and introspective reflections of my creation, called “Grimoire of a Weirdo”.