Dark House: Illustrated Poem Swap with Maggie!

Hey warriors! I know today isn’t a usual post day, but with NaNoWriMo coming up so soon I wanted to get one more fun post in before I share all my tips, tricks, and encouragement! So today I’ll be sharing my poem Dark House again, only this time… it’s illustrated by Maggie from Maggie’s Doodles! (Psst. If you want to see my own pathetic art skills and her poetry, check out her poem with my art here!) Let’s dive in!

The sound of beating hooves

Pound across the cobblestones

Cracked and coated in dirt

From years of heavy burdens

The gate is iron cold,

Squealing dark disapproval.

Angry dogs threaten guests

Til one regrets arrival

Toward the gloomy house,

Up the winding path of stones,

Past the littered garden…

Could those be a human’s bones?

A loud clap of thunder

And dismal drops of cold rain…

The stink of cigar smoke…

Is someone crying from pain?

The door opens slowly:

The light of a fire dying,

A broken chair lies by

A bruised young boy still crying.

The dream is over and

You wake up and think of him

The tired criminal

You thought of as inhuman

His eyes were full of tears

But he never let them flow,

And deep inside he broke

But he never let it show.

Because another man

Had locked the boy deep inside

A prison made of lies

The boy did his best to hide

And as the boy grew up

He did things he knew were wrong

Then bore his punishments

Inwardly weak but so strong

The sin and taunts gather

Weighing on his weary heart

He’s sorry to be this

And longs for a brand new start

How many times have you

Judged this man for his tough face,

Not realizing the boy

Inside him has remained.

If you said you loved him

And gave him just one more chance,

Hugged him when you saw him

And smiled when you just glanced…

Would the old cracks be filled?

Would those cold gates open wide?

Would you find that young boy

Who’s still crying deep inside?

Could you light a fire

Where the flames have long gone cold

And warm every corner

Til heat reaches the threshold?

Could flowers cover up

The dirt and death he feels?

Could some gentle caring

Help a lonely man to heal?

You look in the mirror

And find your child within

Then visit that poor man

And so the healing begins.

I hope you enjoyed seeing that again, this time with Maggie’s amazing doodles! Make sure to check out her poem! Which drawing was your favorite? Let us know in the comments!

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The Dark House: A Poem

Hey warriors! I recently realized I’ve been trying too hard to create helpful posts when this blog isn’t just for writing tips but for my writing! So here’s a poem I wrote. I hope you enjoy it!


The Dark House

The sound of beating hooves
Pound across the cobblestones
Cracked and coated in dirt.
From years of heavy burdens

The gate is iron cold,
Squealing dark disapproval.
Angry dogs threaten guests
Til one regrets arrival

Toward the gloomy house,
Up the winding path of stones,
Past the littered garden…
Could those be a human’s bones?

A loud clap of thunder
And dismal drops of cold rain…
The stink of cigar smoke…
Is someone crying from pain?

The door opens slowly:
The light of a fire dying,
A broken chair lies by
A bruised young boy still crying.

The dream is over and
You wake up and think of him
The tired criminal
You thought of as inhuman

His eyes were full of tears
But he never let them flow,
And deep inside he broke
But he never let it show.

Because another man
Had locked the boy deep inside
A prison made of lies
The boy did his best to hide

And as the boy grew up
He did things he knew were wrong
Then bore his punishments
Inwardly weak but so strong

The sin and taunts gather
Weighing on his weary heart
He’s sorry to be this
And longs for a brand new start

How many times have you
Judged this man for his tough face,
Not realizing the boy
Inside him has remained.

If you said you loved him
And gave him just one more chance,
Hugged him when you saw him
And smiled when you just glanced…

Would the old cracks be filled?
Would those cold gates open wide?
Would you find that young boy
Who’s still crying deep inside?

Could you light a fire
Where the flames have long gone cold
And warm every corner
Til heat reaches the threshold?

Could flowers cover up
The dirt and death he feels?
Could some gentle caring
Help a lonely man to heal?

You look in the mirror
And find your child within
Then visit that poor man
And so the healing begins.


I hope you enjoyed this poem. What is one way you could love someone today?

Happy Birthday, Aanya!!

Hey warriors! Today’s post is a little unique because it’s a birthday poem written by several other bloggers and I wrote for a special blogger! We may be a little late, but only because we wanted it to be as good as possible! Aanya is a ton of fun to talk to and she’s really sweet! Check out her blog here and give her a follow! Now… let’s dive in!


A snowy owl enters the room with an envelope in its beak,

A regal seal with Hogwarts name keeping the secrets within.

She picks up the envelope and lets out a joyful shriek,

“I’ve wondered for years, ‘when will my wizardly studies begin?’”

A wonderful present starts a wonderful day

Chock full of shopping for wands, books, and robes.

She readies herself without delay.

Her cheerful voice speaks, “I could explode!”

With a party and cake, shopping and gifts

It’s everything a girl could ever want

Aanya exclaims “This will be epic!”

She analyzes the letter from words to font

First comes a visit from family and friends

A party with cool  gifts and sweet notes

She hopes it won’t ever end

Then comes dessert; ice cream wins the vote

Next comes a visit to the wizarding world

To buy all the supplies for a Hogwarts year

And awe at the wands, cauldrons and bottles

She meets a few students who ease all fear.

She just can’t stop thinking and dreaming

Of this year she has ahead

The hopeful future has her beaming 

And I hope nothing can diminish this joy or make her upset.


This poem was primarily written by Anna, Liz, Rayna, Diamond, and I, though all the ZCC was behind the idea.

Happy belated birthday, Aanya! I hope you enjoy this year! We love you! – ZCC

Sunset: A Poem – Summer of Stories 2

Hey warriors! Welcome or welcome back to Words! I have another Summer of Stories post today! This week’s prompt was “write a poem about a sunset.” I hope you enjoy!


Some people see beauty

In the golden rays of evening

The edge of night’s burning

Some people see artwork

In the masterfully chosen hues

The pinks, oranges, and blues.

Some people see promise

In the ending of one day

Knowing the night won’t stay

Some people see the moon

As the sun fades into the horizon

And they watch the stars be strung

But I see a little of all tonight:

Beauty, art, promise, and the moon

And I sing a different tune

Because I see hope most tonight:

Though the sun may fade

There always comes a new day

Again and again the darkness falls

Only for again the sun to shine bright

Where there is day, there will be night

But where the night ends is beauty

Not only does the sun set, it rises

Shining on all God’s precious prizes

Won from death and Satan’s grip,

By choosing Him we’re saved and His

And so He wraps us in golden-ray kisses.

But those who have yet to come,

He calls them home, “I love you, son!

You can’t change that fact with what you’ve done!”

So when I look at a fresh sunset,

I hear a voice calling from the sky

“Glory, glory, to Christ on high!”


What do you see in a sunset? Let me know in the comments!

Storms: A Short Story in Poetry

Hey, everyone! Welcome or welcome back to Words! Today’s post is a more sad one. This is a short story told in four-line stanzas of poetry. It’s a story of pain, suffering, depression, anxiety, loneliness, and mental struggles and based on true stories. I hope you are able to learn from it or find healing from it.


Part 1

The color of the sky before a storm is green-gray,

Green like jealousy and sickness, 

Gray like gloom and danger coming closer.

That’s the color of the sky right now.

Annabelle stands in the living room,

Watching them scream loudly.

She opens her mouth to say something

But nothing will be heard.

The sky’s tears start to fall.

Raindrops drip, drip, drip.

A flood, for seemingly no reason

And out of control.

Anna runs to the bathroom.

Drip, drip, drip, drip, tears pour.

It refuses to stop, even though

She’s fighting to stuff them back in.

Part 2

Nearby, the clouds are angrier. 

Black, filled with hate.

Thunder cracks through the sky

And light pierces the dark.

Vanessa watches him rage.

It was just a pancake.

She wasn’t hungry.

Now she feels sick.

Again and again and again. 

Loud and exposing,

Painful, hot, and burning.

The storm finally stops.

Nessa watches as they walk in

And her own life starts to change

But the damage is done.

She cries because it’s too late.

Part 3

Another storm forms far away.

The ground shakes,

Rain pours down and down

Nothing looks the same.

Bethany looks at the flowers.

They used to make her smile

Now she just wants it all gone.

Something has to change.

There’s a moment of calm,

A moment of peace,

But then it spits again

Laughing and taunting.

Beth wonders what changed.

Life was never perfect, but 

Somehow it didn’t feel like this.

“I’m fine. Life is great.”

Part 4

Once storms raged here.

Now this place is just a mess

Things block the roads,

Making places hard to reach.

Haley stares at the floor.

It’s just cleaning. That’s all.

It shouldn’t be this hard.

Why is it so hard?

The clouds are here again

More angry, more threatening;

The sky is filled with pressure

Wind blows everything down.

She sighs, sliding to the floor.

Why is it everyone else?

Why can’t she take it all?

Or why can’t it just end?

Part 5

The storms meet.

They slam into each other,

And it’s more powerful,

But only for a moment.

Anna smiles, at least a second.

Nessa laughs, at least right now.

Beth has motivation, at least today.

Haley has hope for a future.

Maybe the storms disappear.

Maybe the storms stick around.

Maybe they get softer.

Maybe they get louder.

They dream of hugs,

Video calls and texts

Collabs and adventures

They can do this together.


Remember, it’s ok to need someone to help you stand. One day you’ll be able to shake off the dust you rose from, I’m certain. Do you relate to any of this? What’s your storm? If it ended, how did you make it stop? Let me know in the comments.