The poet looked all about her,
in the moon glow so dim
Felt a slight tug…
as something pulled her… further within
First, , , hesitant steps…
with a look oe’r her shoulder
Back at the house
with it’s lights slowly dimming
The tenous pull
on her hands growing bolder
Her eyes torn away,
in tears… deeply brimming
Sepulchral black limbs
Spider close overhead
Vision shimmers and swims
In fear… and in dread
Is this poetic justice?
And if so…for what deed?
Was she being taken in malice
The pull Quickened…paying no heed!
faint, distant voices, calling her name
Made her try to stop…made her resist
But the unseen fantasm, tugged all the same
And pulled the Poet, yet deeper into the mist
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem