CAMP DREAD

Phil Roberts 1957 (Melbourne)



The road to Camp Dread is endless
And the road home doesn't exist,
It's in a verdant wasteland
That time, it seems, has been missed.

Creeping vines and strangling vines
Pervade the loathsome forest wood,
Burrowers beneath follow you
Planning to perpetrate no-good.

Shadowy figures following you
If you foolishly stray outside,
Hellish howling invades the night
As the living safely hide.

Ghostly shimmering shapes
Swirl through the forest by night,
Locked inside an old log cabin
Campers almost die from fright.

Camp Dread is not for cowards
For those who are faint-hearted,
It's not a place for campfire tales
That fill your mind with dread.

Loathsome creatures crawl
Outside the hut after twilight,
Squealing like the hounds of Hell
Could make you die of fright.

Horrid midnight creatures
Scuttling outside your hut,
Making you grateful to be inside
With the wooden door locked shut.

Camp Dread is on the road to ruin
Within a leafy sunken dell,
A place where no-one goes by choice
And residents all call Hell.

THE END
© Copyright 2021 Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia

About this poem

The road to Camp Dread is endless And the road home doesn't exist,

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Written on August 01, 2021

Submitted by PHIL_ROBERTS on September 23, 2021

Modified on March 05, 2023

54 sec read
2

Quick analysis:

Scheme XAXA XBCB CDED XEFE XXXX XEGE XHDH FGXG XXX
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 1,050
Words 180
Stanzas 9
Stanza Lengths 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 3

Phil Roberts

I turn 65 on the 31st of January 2022. I love cats, rock music, and horror fiction and poetry more…

All Phil Roberts poems | Phil Roberts Books

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