Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

Broken glasses across the sky of nothingness,

you see a disruption,

they see a tree of hope,

roots extending,

arms clutching what is your wintery escape,

see the man who stands before me,

see the hand he holds,

the bitterness in folds his own,

we see,

they see me,

a sea of hate,

a hate filled tree of sickness,

wickedness,

bitterness,

a swaying song of me,

can’t you see?