La Isla de las Muñecas

In the world of nightmares

don’t journey to

the Island of the Dolls

where plastic specters

are suspended from ghoulish trees

watching all

how they beckon you

to journey forth

your weaknesses marked

your darkness explored

floating through the canals

sailing over spirits

laying in watery sleep

this land, lush and lying

the lurid and creepy…whispering

less than hallowed tales

the sweet cadence of misery

sinking into bones…

Oh little girl

who never rests

washed from the canals

the weeping wails

clouding water with tears

the refugee hermit

he found you there

hung the dolls

in those jagged branches

appeasing in remorse

no pudo salvarla

decaying dolls

now multiplied over the years

never ending, offending

vessels for spirits

desiring more souls

to spill out upon

this haunted ground….


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