The Words walked down the dark alley,
A furtive glance here there.
Shuttered windows, shaded corners,
shadows lurking, gory smiles,
mark frosted trails in their wake.
The moon hangs low, it’s silver glow
entwined in nightmarish grime.
Street lamps flicker, with an
Sadness seeps red in bricks damp,
voices in horror clamp.
Hooded eyes, hidden pry
for a stumble,a cry.
Teardrops fall from grey skies,
The Words, drenched,
They have had enough.
Picture credit Pixabay