The Tower on the Hill — A poem

By Julia Akre

Wood cracked and squeaked 

The trees quietly swayed in the wind

All was quiet in the moonlit night except for what was within. . . 

The tower in the hill

 

Thunderous footsteps echoed off the stone walls

Lanterns casted long flickering shadows down every hall

Rows of books now not so comforting as light and dark played their funny tricks

Heavy breathing, seeming to never get farther away from their target. 

The tower on the hill

 

A slip, a stumble, the girl falls.

Heart hammering, adrenaline and fear. the only things keeping her going.

She stood and turned and froze as she looked into the eyes of hell.

The beast’s far was the absence of color, his huskers gray as smoke, the girl stopped thinking in. . .

The tower on the hill.