Monday, 1 May 2023

The Last Bus

 


The screen flickers,

something is wrong.

The world twitches

like it's itching.

The lights dim

and the critters

in the shadowy

back seats

speak in tongues.

There is something

very wrong.

The air is thick,

static lingers

like leaden fingers

pulling hairs

on the back of my neck.

 

The bus is moving,

but something is wrong.

We are heading the other way.

Deep into the descending darkness

and the shimmering mist

is clinging to the sides.

Into each crack it starts to climb,

creeping in

through the slimmest opening.

I hear a distant church bell chime.

 

I push the bell

to alert the driver.

the sound comes back 

only ten times louder,

a death knell echo 

through the bones.

The world shifts 

and turns.

reversing along

a new wave of time

the ceiling of a vast tunnel,

now where we ride.

Nowhere to hide from the creatures

 creeping,

crawling,

 reaching out to grip me 

in their claws,

The doors

 not where they were before.

The aisle 

spans miles in all directions

and yet more and more

creatures pour forward

filling the space,

until I'm choking for air,

gasping to breathe.

 

Something very wrong.

The bus is heading 

the opposite direction.

The screen flickers.

The driver laughs,

twitches  hideous

and menacing,

he lets it sit

and linger 

in the odious air,

a sneer painted

in the thick atmosphere.

The sounds click and clack,

footsteps on the upper deck.

The flush of fear fills my face

and I scream as I'm welcomed

into this devilish embrace.

 

 

 


Thanks for reading

Please take a look at my new collection "Torn Pages"

100+ all new poems not shared here before.

https://tinyurl.com/KCtornpages

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Peace, Love and Poetry 
 
Kyle
 

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