In Black Hollow where the moon hangs low,
The whispers rise and cold winds blow,
It started soft, like a distant hum,
And soon the town was overcome.
Old man Garret was first to go,
Taken by shadows that softly grow,
He vanished quiet, without a scream,
Like he’d been erased from someone’s dream.
Then Mrs. Thatcher, kind and sweet,
With pies that no one now would eat.
Her house stood dark, her windows bare,
The Hollow Ones had claimed her there.
The whispers crept through cracks in stone,
They chilled the bone, they chilled the bone.
But worst of all were shadows tall,
That moved without a sound at all.
The Hollow Ones—they soon appeared,
Their faces hollow, their presence feared.
With eyes like voids, they stalked the night,
A horror born of purest fright.
They took not flesh, they took the soul,
They hollowed minds, they took them whole,
And those they claimed became the same,
Empty shells without a name.
Young Jessie thought she’d make a stand,
To save her town, her broken land.
But in the night, the whispers came,
And Jessie’s heart was not the same.
She woke to voices not her own,
That whispered secrets, dark and grown.
And there they stood, at her bedside,
The Hollow Ones, with hollow eyes.
She tried to run, she tried to flee,
But they had come to take her plea.
Her thoughts unraveled, fear took hold,
And soon her heart was far too cold.
By morning light, her eyes were black,
Her soul was gone, she won’t come back.
And now she stands at the forest’s rim,
A Hollow One, with hollow whim.
The town of Black Hollow disappeared,
Erased by fear, by shadows seared.
But listen close on quiet nights,
You’ll hear their whispers, born of fright.
The Hollow Ones still creep and crawl,
They watch and wait, they take us all.
So guard your thoughts and guard your mind,
Or you’ll be theirs, forever blind.
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😜👏👏👏 awesome stuff, John.
Thank you very much! 😎