The trees bend in the wind
Creaking and groaning in the dark
Whilst above the moon casts its rays
Slivers shining through each branch
Leaves blow around the trees
Dancing in the moonbeam’s light
Twisting, forming, becoming
Something just out of sight
A noise like a howl escapes
From the twisting, dancing maelstrom
Something other than the wind
That grows becoming strong
Animals scatter and run in fear
Hiding, they cower away
This thing that does form
Has come from the darkness to play
Old and ancient it is
This creature of the dark
Going back before the written word
To even before Noah’s Ark
Angry, ravenous and so very hungry
It’s come now to feed
This collector of souls so ancient
Here for what it needs
Published by
Darren Greenidge
I'm a thinker, listener, a "question's pretty much everything" type of person. A seeker of knowledge, always restless, yet seeks the calm in life.
I love writing in all forms and am in the process of completing a number of ongoing projects. I love the craft of writing and the possibilities it holds. A magic carpet through the mind. I love pretty much all creative arts, music, film and theatre the leading ones.
Born in Hertfordshire in England, my family Irish, Welsh and English, I currently reside in Edinburgh, in Scotland. I'm drawn to coastal and mountain regions where I like to go to think and draw inspiration from. Ireland is a place that's dear to me, and I try to get back to see family and friends as much as possible.
My interests are wide and broad, too many to mention here, but history, archaeology, criminology, music and film are just some of those things I love.
I hope you enjoy my ramblings on here as that's what they are really. I'll let my fingers do the ''talking...''
View all posts by Darren Greenidge
Caliburnus Rises 