Spirit of Falls Brenna Eller
In a middle of nowhere borough, living up to its name, homes once glowing die out, the extinguished flames, father’s tears replenish, as mother’s heart mourns so, Evermore, the town of Wicker Falls begins to let go. The convicted locked away, murderer in defeat, darkness stretches its fingers toward rays of heat, a groundbreaking case lasting a few years, file closed, a village overcoming its fears.
52
Eyes glint with giddiness once again, trying to restore what was broken by sin, reverting to old ways, the people of “Falls”, losing sense of caution, ignoring protocols. They don’t recall how I came to pass, how a life can wither away so fast, I know. I was the one captured by him, the gloomy Monday I fell victim. They think Lucifer is still in Hell, oblivious to danger, under his spell, he lives amongst them, more deceitful, conniving fox who caused such evil. The hint of mint wafting from the cafe, brings me to that wretched last day, when he stole my last breath, gave me cold earth, kissed with death.
