Screams in the Night

Screams in the Night

By Nomar Knight

Waiting for an axe to fall

Sweat my sole companion

Suspicious whispers roamed the hall

Trapped in hell's canyon

Gripped mildewed walls

While I slid with trepidation

Black widows heeded call

Prompting my hesitation

But when whispers changed their tune

My heart pumped out of rhythm

As if crawling over wicked dunes

Couldn't let her be a victim

Screeching screams in the night

Inflated all lust for life

Had to make things right

Smashing door to save my wife

Deceit my eyes did see

For my maiden jumped with pleasure

She reached the O without me

Sacred spot ruined treasure

Pathetic pleas plastered in silence

Lost amidst orgasmic screams

Wicked wife took evil's guidance

Shattering all my hopes and dreams

With maddening fury I struck

A blow flashing righteous light

My sword sealed their luck

Forever joined by treacherous plight

Paid the devil his rent

A noose gripped deadly tight

Terrible sounds could not relent

Sordid screams reached new height

Not even hell's burning light

Could shut out despicable sight

Gripped reigns of fire tight 

Haunted by screams in the night 

©2011 Nomar Knight. All rights reserved.

A Knight Chills Poem.

Haunted Games by Lyn Midnight

Today is Sunday Swap and I'm dancing on Lyn Midnight's blog Lyn Midnight Against All Odds while she's here on Knight Chills bringing the phrase, "It's more than just a game," to light or should I say, dark.  Lyn is a gifted writer who likes many of the same things I do, like horror thrillers and dancing.  


Enjoy this haunting little poem.  Then go here to visit her blog and witness how I dance with words.  

Haunted Games

By Lyn Midnight

Samsung T900,

black top open, following

a simple game of chess

on the kitchen tiles.

House is quiet, haunted

by the players’ shadows under

moonlit spells and fired guns.

The night anticipates the end.

In place of Queen, pawn,

rook and King – a lipstick,

broken glass, the phone and

a bloody yellow pad.

The phone rings –

a heavy, rueful cry of guilt;

vibration topples the Queen

leaving the King unprotected.

The ring dies down,

then starts again. Who wins?

If only there were eyes to see,

the dawn would have revealed.

© Copyright Lyn Midnight 2011. All rights reserved.
Lyn Midnight has granted Knight Chills non-exclusive rights to display this work.


© Copyright Nomar Knight 2011. All rights reserved.
A Knight Chills Guest Blogger Presentation.