poetry / Supernatural / Uncategorized

La Isla de las Muñecas

In the world of nightmares

don’t journey to

the Island of the Dolls

where plastic specters

are suspended from ghoulish trees

watching all

how they beckon you

to journey forth

your weaknesses marked

your darkness explored

floating through the canals

sailing over spirits

laying in watery sleep

this land, lush and lying

the lurid and creepy…whispering

less than hallowed tales

the sweet cadence of misery

sinking into bones…

Oh little girl

who never rests

washed from the canals

the weeping wails

clouding water with tears

the refugee hermit

he found you there

hung the dolls

in those jagged branches

appeasing in remorse

no pudo salvarla

decaying dolls

now multiplied over the years

never ending, offending

vessels for spirits

desiring more souls

to spill out upon

this haunted ground….




30 thoughts on “La Isla de las Muñecas

  1. My daughter was never really into dolls, thank God. After this I’d have been calling the authorities to round them up (I wouldn’t go anywhere near them!) and march them to a far away charity shop. (Hopefully not the dolls marching). Thanks LT for scaring the wits out of me. Again. 🙂

  2. THIS is why I never gravitated to dolls as a child, Lana! Something about all that clammy, plastic skin — and those staring, glassy eyes — that just screams for a horror story. Thanks for doing it justice!

  3. Oh, this is seriously scary…I’ve got goosebumps! Terrific effective writing, Lana. Luckily my old dolls are up in the loft – not sure I could look at them after this! 😀😀 As always you manage to surprise me and that’s great! Is this a real place? Just wondering after reading some of the comments.

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