Yew Alley (Hounds of Baskerville)

*written in eighth grade (several years ago) about the Hounds of Baskervilles (a Sherlock Holmes story) by Sir Conan Doyle.


Yew Alley
My breath puffs in front of me
swirling, smoky spheres
My feet hit the ground
Snow crunches underfoot
White, wet wonderland
Frozen
Cold wind sears through my coat
My body hunched into my coat
Shuddering as the cold cuts into me
Freezing, frigid freshness
Icy Pain
The gate sits small in front of me
Holding against the weather
Standing small in the storm
Strong as I am not
Protect, prevail, peaceful
Disappointment
My mouth takes a breath from the cigar
The point of light in darkness
The warmth in the cold night
The star at night
The hound in the moor
Dark, dank devil
Evil
Ash falls to the ground
A howl breaks the silence
My feet slap at the ground
Pushing to go harder
The howl is closer, a pain in my back
Shoving me to the ground
Fiery, ferocious, fallen
Betrayal
She never came
My heart pumps faster
Blood coursing through me
My heart beats as the demon enters it
Betrayal hits every nerve
My hands dig furrows into the Earth's skin
The end is near
The end is here