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The man with a bone flute

Vandita Shukla

As the twilight comes to an end
And the dead of night begins to ascend
Lurking in the shadows,
I see a tall male silhouette
Emerging from the meadows,
Holding a thin and long flute.

Through it, he elicits a tune so vile
That it can make a person go senile.
As he reaches near,
the moonlight reveals his face.
Akin to crystal, it becomes clear
That his footsteps leave no trace.

Now just a feet away,
I see his large physique
Upon seeing his flute of bones
Out of fear, I shriek.

"You're next, my dear"
He says with an evil smirk
"With a skin, in depth, so mere,
It won't be a lot of work."
With prayers on my lips,
I run in search of a haven divine
But by wicked luck, trip
And find myself awake
On the bed at nine.

"Was it a nightmare?"
With terror, I muse.
Arising to change my nightwear,
On my ankle, I find a large bruise.
Thinking of it as a coincidence,
I shrug it off to calm down.

On finding myself unable to walk,
I arrive at a hospital by 11 o'clock.
Sitting in a chamber alone,
I await the doctor to show up.
He enters shortly wearing a mask
Accompanied by a lady
With an aura, extremely shady.

On seeing her face,
A chill rushes down my spine
For that lady possesses
An appearance identical to mine!
As the doctor removes his mask,
Due to fear, I become mute
For the doctor is none other than
The man with a bone flute.

Leaning , he whispers to my ear :
" Worry not. Your existence
Will be replaced, my dear. "
And consequently, I pass out
Succumbing to my fear.

I wake up having no track of time
To a graveyard, at night at its prime.
Among the countless graves,
Attention to a special one, I claim.
For its gravestone is engraved
With my very own name.


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