The Stokers of the Earth


United States
41° 32' 17.0376" N, 73° 54' 2.5524" W

(poems go here) The fluorescent moon
Of the black night sky,
the only light to shine in the abandoned town.
Frigid air burns
my porcelain skin.
Drifting through the streets,
A cloud of breath in front of me feels warm.
I find a dim street lamp.
My palms sweating like a cold glass.
I was nervous
I had to be.
It wasn’t there… yes it was!
Frail, bent, decrepit, body
limps towards me with a flowing step.
The stoker of the earth creeping out of the dim light.
As I sneak towards the ruble to escape,
Crashing into the ground.
The head of the creature snapped towards me
Legs dragging,
quickened pace,
darkness as a face.
My Eyes shifting to the body I see it
The long, jagged edge of a blade.
Shining under the fluorescent moon
I was blinded
My knees rattle like a snakes tail
Eyes filling with tears
I jumped to escape
As I turn into my own nightmare
The darkness was everywhere
The stokers multiplied
Nowhere to run
I was surrounded
I was alone.


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