By Logan Hampsey
making it through the cemetery is my next task. my broken-down, worn-out shoes won’t last.
i used to be scared walking through empty souls. the cold, old, moldy graves and tombs
lay – no movement in sight,
except when i walk through, of course.
through the cemetery we go.
the smell of rotten corpses,
the darkness of the sky above,
no other cemetery is like it.
whoever dares enter must know their value. no living, breathing lifeforms in sight.
i’ve never been inside the haunted house next door –
all i know is that there are demons inside…
it’s the only place they are welcomed,
unless they are in my head.
there are always warm, crimson splatters of blood on all the walkways and all the tombstones.
they all gather around the cemetery –
all demons, all supernatural.
sacrifices must be made.
so petrifying that no mortal could comprehend. the cemetery can unite our souls, or break them. bloodthirsty intentions roaming around the boneyard. once one finishes walking through the cemetery, they are never the same.
nothing ever remains normal again.
they even wake up one day and find themselves
buried deep in the ground, alongside the ones before them. the dead do not play,
the living will have to pay.
all troubles will resurface again.
once you decide your fate,
the cemetery will take all your pain away.
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