Strange Writing
Comments 4

The Hounds of Diana

the night was stained black
all stars blotted out
no moon

he’s hiding out there
in the inky dark
for now

the wind gives him up
we creep in slowly
to pounce

muffled by the storm
the raindrops turn red
found you


  1. Pingback: What’s Your Writing Addiction? | Everyday Strange

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