dark

Winter at the Ocean

By Elizabeth Lyman
Mater Christi School, Grade 3

When it comes to winter at the ocean
the days are dark
and gloomy
and the wind howls
calling for the winter holiday to start.
In the night the waves
CRASH!
like lightening cracking the sky open
and clouds blowing through the sky.
It's like the clouds are touching the ground.

I sit alone in my dark, dark room. And with a sudden thought, I sit. And as I sit my eyes turn grey. And as it turns toward the sunny day. I reach my hand, as I say, "Go forth my hand and blot the day." So darkness falls upon the day. And once again my eyes turn grey. Forever with the snowlight glistening. My hands will weave the gleaming of the dark, dark day.

the wind was blowing
the trees were waving
it was a dark dark hallaween night

The woods are something you just can't comprehend.
From a distance, you see their greeen tops- perhaps like hats covering an ugly face below. You see the colors, flashing..
Red. Yellow. Gold. Are they warnings? Are they welcoming signs?
People have entered, and returned without scratches. Others,
have never been found.
Do they choose their victims? Or do their victims choose them?
The calls of the crows, bellowing you to stay out? Or asking you to come in?
Come in.... Come in...
If you dare.

Passion.

passion is the deadliest poison,
draining the life out of my eyes
like a fire in the wind,
feeding on the bitterness of thought.
consuming reason that might hold it back.

Promise.

promise is the chain of a bound soul,
fruitless dreams torn
and dashed upon the windows of
y future I once held.
yet it binds me,
raking the fruits of a barren eternity.

Patience.

the worst of these trials,
tearing away at the shell of a man I once was,
the salt and sand of a
broken mind, blinding the eyes
that once beheld a time worth living.

The Path to Limbo, the Undecided Trail

Coffee may be
one of the things
I dislike the most.

It's bitter.
It's dark.

But when compared to me
Coffee has nothing
on bitterness.
on darkness.

Ironic, isn't it.
that I can hate coffee
so much
but be exactly like something
that I hate.

Funny how people are.

“Noooooooooo” cried my little sister Sarah. I let out an exasperated yawn as I left for the bus. The bus picked me up, but instead of our regular bus driver an old man greeted us! This was not surprising that our bus driver wasn’t here, he usually wasn’t. This wasn’t one of the 5 subs that could drive the bus though. A chill went up my spine as I stepped on to the bus.

There is pain.
The pain of not knowing.
Caring
But not seeing.
Darkness
That shrouds you
In the blackness
That kills you inside.
You heart aches
With wanting,
Needing,
More that anything,
To know what happened,
But there is only
Silence.

Nobody speaks.
Nobody listens
As you call out,
Drowning in this black shroud
That is keeping you blank
And this wanting,
This needing,

It was dark, and depessing.
The night was lost, or so we thought.
A sudden crop of smiles, miniature full moons,
fell into the nearly full shadow on all those faces.
A sudden drowning occured, a drowning of
anguish, fear, and pain.
We were done trying to seek the unknown, the
unseen, and the unheard.
we were just done feeling all the same.