Psychological Thriller: A Poem

Psychological Thriller: A Poem

Imagine my state of mind

Trapped inside the barn

Rain tip tip tapping

Vampires using their

Fangs

To tip tip tap out secrets on the barn roof tin

Morse code to the monsters

Storming through the woods, crossing creeks, breaking briars

Monsters disguised as saints and sinners

Determined to destroy me:

Their scapegoat

Their sacrificial lamb

Why me?

I am no one special

An easy target

Hiding in a barn

Keeping my thoughts

Close to my heart

Hiding from the monsters

Searching for me:

The one who stole their sacramental book

The rain has stopped

But I can’t leave

I know the monsters

Are out there

Storming through the woods, crossing creeks, breaking briars

They want their book back

Want it back in their possession

Invisible to the naked eyes

My eyes are no longer naked

I have their book

Infinite tales

Cruel moments

Innocence stolen

Will they get their book back?

They have power

Provenance

Evil of the worst kind

Pretending to be your friend

Long enough

Long enough

To find your weakness

To find the best way to win

And those of us naturally trusting souls

Believing monsters

Are not really real

Just a presence under one’s bed

Not really there

Are their scapegoats

Their sacrificial lambs

This book I do not wish to possess

Seeks to possess me

Monsters rigged the contest

Made sure my slip of paper

Was stamped with blood

Sucked from me

When my back was turned

I glance at my watch

Careful to shade the pin size light

In fear the monsters will see me

Find me

Take their book back

This burden

Has challenged all that I am

I must out monster the monsters

Without becoming one of them