The Harvester
Where Fear Feeds and Shadows Consume
By Jason “Jay” BenskinPublished about a year ago • 1 min read
When midnight comes and silence spreads,
It rises from where fear treads.
No eyes, no voice—just a twisted grin,
It draws you close, drags you in.
--
Its touch is ice that seeps through bone,
Feeding on the dread you've never shown.
You feel your mind begin to fray,
As it tears your will away.
--
You reach to scream, but your breath is gone,
It devours slow, inch by drawn-out inch.
No life remains, yet death won't claim,
You linger there, just a husk in its flame.
--
When it leaves, you're hollow, spent,
A shadow consumed in the dark it sent.
The Hunger moves on, fades out of sight,
Leaving behind one more lost to the night.
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Comments (4)
well written
(Feeding on the dread you’ve never shown) it’s like you’re saying that dread often comes from nowhere, the only time we notice it is when it is already there and it can’t be stopped. This is spine- chilling.
This is one that makes you think about going out at night. Good work.
Is the harvester any relation to the sickle guy...cause how many do we need. Sheesh. Calling/not it!