A Night in the Graveyard

In the graveyard

mist abounds

on every surface

there is no hallow ground.

Light flickers in

quick and dim

on little candlesticks

creating little patches in the mist.

But a cool wind

blows from over the bend

extinguishing the light from the candlesticks

the mist is suffocating and thick.

The groans from the damned

echoes across the land

accompanied by ghoulish hands

sticking out of the sand.

Run like the wind

to the entrance tall and thin

pray that you’ll make it

before a ghoul does you in.

Shut the metal door

loud and old

pretend you don’t see your gravestone

right beside the door.

By Destini Beckham