Anyway, I found this writing I did some time ago. Not sure why I wrote it, but I thought I would post it anyway.
When the trees moan, and yes, they will. Take time to bury your feet in death's pre-moistened soil. Tickle the roots with your dirty toes. Tilt the head, expose your throat. Let primal yelps, howls and screams bellow into the veiled night. The waxing moon is pure menace. Tainted dreams. Phosphorous beams stain cheeks and hands. Know this, that when you see him coming, hold nothing back. Stick him with the broken shovel, sever the left limb. Rattle the bones. Crack them if you can. Your safety lies in the fifth pocket, caress this relic of nuisance past. The night cannot hold you forever...hopefully.
If you have read this before, please help me put it into context, as my memory is failing me in my old age.
