The man in black stood on a cliff
Pale skin that mimicked the snow
skeleton as stiff as a board.
Stiff as he was,
he was shaking,
holding a gift
A black box so small, you
can hardly see the rips.
As I moved closer to investigate,
He feels my presence and slips.
Down, down, down the tall drop-off,
and into the dark waters,
but what still remained in his wake,
the gift
Black, cold, and abandoned,
I saw it shiver and shift.
Closer you drew,
The more it oozed
Black, so black it was hard to see
drips of black tar
makes its way towards me.
Covered converse and
trails of soot remain,
Almost alive?
Breathe hitched,
stuck as I see the eyes.
The box,
still closed off yet
it drips and oozes more.
Don’t stray from it.
Eyes down and
the tar is now by the beating organ,
fear rattles my being.
What is it?
Split second of fear is smelt,
A strike over the mouth and
eyes covered.
Fear risen tenfold and
I find myself falling but
Nothing there to fall
on.
Cold breeze bubbles around fear,
Snap and
darkness.

The box…
no longer oozing.
Shifting, awakening,
sits on gravel,
as it too hobbled and wobbled off.
Landing on water,
It did not drown but
stays suspended on waves,
drifting into the next town.
The contents of this box,
swaying with secrets,
remains dark and alive,
in search for its prey,
it’ll make you
sleepless.