A tree that bend from a hill,
Often cast a spell to kill.
Its chant whispers through the wind,
And slowly sips, and sips your blood.
It stoles whatever love you hold,
You will do things as it was told.
In a summer heat, underneath
Blood dripping from its leaves.
It is your own, but you can’t smell,
You’re still under its spell.
So, I warn you now to run down hill,
Run for your life, kid. Run to feel.
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.
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Writer: M.E. Flores
Hour03, Image Prompt03
I caught my breath with this. That tree is so ominous, yet shouldn’t it be life-giving and comforting? Not this one. Just like the image sparked so many lasting after-images and effects, so do your words. The chant seems like a curse, the phrase “sips your blood” makes me shudder, and I definitely feel the urgency of “Run for your life, kid. Run to feel.”