He watches and knows
Through that marble slate we recognize
He blends well with his barren brothers
Black bark turned to cloth of a suit
To hide his cunning from the innocent
He’ll take your mind before anything else
The truest of thieves in the night
So record for the unhinged memory
The eye of a camera’s inalterable
Is he still there? Yes
He’s come to play with us.
-Anya
YOU ARE READING
The Face is Unknown, the Man was Slender
ParanormalThump...thump....thump....thump.... This beat seems so automatic to me, now. A song in my head. Heart beat, almost. Foot steps, actually. I thought the scariest thought would be being alone with no one there for me. But, no. The scariest thought is...
