2017 Nightmare Fuel Day 30

Protecting the door,

he waits, he waits

Hoping beyond hope that his task is worthy

Fog lingers, age rots, paint peels and yet

He remains


Protecting the portal

For the return of his friend

Left a thousand hours ago

Maybe only seconds

Maybe years

How would he know?

He just waits

Counts the leaves,

Hard to keep track, over 209,087

His friend said to


So he counts

Unable to be as still in his mind

As he keeps his body


Perched on the aged door,

His waking dreams

Always show his friend

Triumphantly returning

But each twilight filled hour goes by

Nothing changes


Nothing changes

About Kary

I write many things, prose, poems, flash fiction, short stories, novellas, and novels. Feedback welcome. View all posts by Kary

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