Unholy Road

Amidst the midnight's chilling cloak, on a desolate country road, she awoke,
A woman lost and trembling, in terror's relentless grip,
As raindrops from the heavens drip, a haunting serenade.

Her car lay twisted, mangled, marred, a gruesome tableau,
A solitary figure, all alone, in a nightmarish scene far from the comforts of home.

The rain had turned the road to muck, where vilest creatures dared to tuck,
Their twisted forms beneath the earth, awaiting her ill-fated emergence.

Slimy tendrils, like wretched fingers, reached from the soaked ground,
As if the very road itself conspired to ensnare her,
Maggots wriggled, worms entwined, in this realm of vile design.

With trembling hands and racing heart, she felt the clammy fingers of darkness,
In fetid pools of stagnant goo, where nightmares dared to fester and loom.

And in the shadowy canopy of the twisted trees, something stirred,
A malevolence that had long thrived, wicked, undisturbed,
Its slurping, sucking, slurping sound, a grotesque symphony of dread.

Her flashlight's feeble beam became her frail guide,
As terror slowly tightened its grip on her every faltering stride,
Depravity lurking in every gnarled branch, every lurking shadow.

She tried to flee, to escape the insidious gloom, the road now a vile tomb,
But darkness clung to her like original sin, as nightmares beckoned from within.

For in that wretched, cursed place, where fear and disgust interwove,
She confronted the very horror of her plight, on that accursed rainy night.

But as the first rays of dawn began to break, and morning's light began to wake,
She found her reservoir of strength, her indomitable spirit, resolute and true,
And from the suffocating darkness, she withdrew.

Though forever scarred by that unholy scene, she left behind the vilest dream,
A survivor of the darkest road, where fear and filth had once reigned supreme.