This is a Chaucerian stanza inspired by FOWC: Paranormal, and underneath that is a quick cinquain about what I most fear, for FDDA day 11. As I don’t like to dwell on disgusting things, I wrote it in about a minute, so I’m not putting the second poem in its own post. 🙂
In haunted houses do true ghosts exist?
Some disembodied spirit stuck in pain?
Cannot move on, relinquishing resist,
Stuck in between eternal and Earth’s plane?
One need not die; regrets can haunt the brain
Like much more hungry ghosts, which will devour:
Horrors of past may push into this hour.
Now, for my next “masterpiece”….
Spawn of satan
Disgusting wormy things.
Don’t even make me think about