Superstitions
Urban frost spews
from the jaws of the earth,
smothering slabs of stone
in its chilly gaze.

The tales of old protects us,
from the demon of ignorance -
a wise elder's weakness.
The walls shut the terror out,
encasing shadows within.
Backs to the past
still remain trapped
in wrinkled myths.

The silhouettes in a blizzard
are just harbingers of
a living nightmare
in which we walk in.
What great monstrosity lurks in the night,
to rip our minds apart
and bring loved ones to depart.
How can something cold keep the chill away?
How can the bones of the dead still rattle in the day?

As the sun casts no light behind the walls,
the walls cast no relief from the ghosts
in our frozen minds.