Roller coasters set up high,
as if to touch the midnight sky.
Glider swings move on their own,
whispers, shadows, haunting moans,
Fresh paved walkways, footsteps heard
voices echo, with no words...
Apparitions, here and there
will disappear from those that stare.
Moonlight mystery's fill the park,
but not until its after dark,
Bumper cars still filled with rust,
tend to move, but not till dusk
Some say this place is sure delight,
prepare yourself for such a fright.
The turnstiles wait for each new guest,
The rides immortal, and cease to rest
Each night is horror, from all around,
but only whispers can be found.
So make a plan and come to see...
You'll leave in terror, the haunting's free!
-
Author:
Michael Vanderhoof (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 8th, 2024 07:37
- Comment from author about the poem: This poem is based on the events that have happened after the Chernobyl tragedy. As the story goes, the amusement park was supposed to open, but never did after the accident. However, this locations is known for haunted activity. Since a high numbers of deaths occurred nearby, it is speculated that the turnstiles are moving after midnight, from those who never had a chance to attend the park during life.
- Category: Gothic
- Views: 9
Offline)
Comments1
Oooo, a very interesting poem. It makes me want to go to the park (in a radiation proof suit) and sit for a while and listen. Maybe some soul might feel a bit chatty.
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