Shoetry writing Winners

Shoetry is a fusion of a short story with a poetry.
What we were looking for was a poetry written in the form of a story.

Here are our winning entries:

Top 3 winners:


The house on the lane was broken and tattered,
A shambled mess where only ghost of memories,
Played within the shadows.
She wanted to explore so, she dragged me alone,
And that’s how I fell, broke my crown,
While falling for the girl who loved shadows,
And playing in the ruins of old houses,
Pretending we were living the memories of those walls.


No. No! A lark in the dark?
A creak, a fall, a bone broke.
Dust and blood cannot be seen in the dark.
Choke on one, feel life go
Seep, seep, drip, drip.
“Oh, my God! It crawls!” So do I on the creaky floor.
It hisses, snarls, the house groans, then grips.
“Help! Somebody help me!”


There we go, into the shades of the dark room without a shade,
Is this a lively one or a haunted one, silence is what remains.
Outside, it’s blowing cool wind as heard in the rustling leaves,
Inside, it’s darkness and silence which leisurely tastes the demise.
This lonely abode and the soul of sole inhabitant lies in me,
Am the last mortal here and there someone knocks the door.
The hearth was breezed, myself is being squeezed in stillness.
It’s a nightmare, I need to wake up but my eyes are wide open!



On the high hill by the river he built a mansion
Full of laughter, his family lived free of tension
Till the scion of the house, the apple of his eye returned
His lady had all the elders in a fit, their plans overturned
A score of arguments and shouting matches followed
In a fit of rage the patriarch the entire family decimated
Now the old mansion stands desolate and deserted
Old and young souls visits at night render it haunted


While playing hide-and-seek, off they went to the deserted street
Seeing a gloomy haunted house,
Eva, Ella got scared, while John, Jin got danced on their feet
They got to the door, and it opened by itself to the south.
Cobwebs, it was covered with, doors slammed shut by themselves.
Despite the warning sign, curious, they went upstairs.
A shadow rippled and vanished, reverberated a haunted voice,
Ran they back to the home, uncle Peter told sure it was dead Joyce’s voice.


Insatiable Satan saunters blatantly,
Inhumed too deep in human skin
He feeds on the souls feminine
Ransacks with blood smeared hands
Followed by banshee’s sore laments
Once, on an evil omen scented night
An ear piercing scream strolled the sky
The witch was mourning for herself



“Don’t go there” mom said
“Because it the house of the dead,
Nobody ever saw the light of day
Who ever ventured into it they say
Voices from the other side can be heard
Its walls wants life to be barred
Haunted for centuries 
With ghosts and spirits eventually”


Desolate and dreary, darkness descended.
The house they said was haunted.
The careless laughter of children in its corridors,
A rocking horse swaying as if possessed by an unruly toddler.
A sleeping doll suddenly opening her eyes and smiling a sinister smile,
A piano alive with the tune of DoReMi.
They said it was once a happy nursery but war had no mercy,
not even for the most innocent lives.


Once upon a time, the dilapidated house nestled amidst the ruins,
Reverberated with sounds of ecstasy,
Now hobbled with apathy, portraying a derelict mansion,
But on moonless nights, the damsel appears in ethereal glow with her purring feline,
As the twilight devoured the sun rays and a dense smog permeated the town,
The breeze murmured to the last vestiges of the tree, ‘lady with white veil is coming’,
The whole atmosphere is buzzed with the sounds of her anklets,
As the night dances on the tunes of her dying breath under the penumbra of breaking dawn!


They drove into the jungle
And found a house ready to crumble
They tiptoed into the house
Lest they wake up a louse
But were shaken out of their wits
By the broom-flying witch
Their blood curdling screams
Were lost in their late night dreams


Deep in the woods,
located on the hills
there was a house,
covered with dust,
lay trees with no leaves,
but only twigs.
No one lived there,
as there lived ghosts!



Lost in the woods, We found an Abode!
Tired and Spent, We found refuge,
Lost in the horrors, Of bygones!
She stood gazing blood thirsty,
With daggers in her eyes and hands,
Ready to plunge it into us, We fled again!
Found a caravan of Gypsies,
Who took us to safety!


The house in a thicket,
Looked so wicked,
A couple who lived there,
Suffered in pain more than they could hear.
Their screams one could hear,
From both far and near.
That kept the people away,
As they thought, ghosts are out on prey.


Purple skies, Silent night and Dark woods,
He was walking slowly leaving behind the crunch of dry leaves,
Solely walk of his added terror in the silent night,
His white shining long teeth were search in delicious bite,
Hid beneath in the woods & dipped in fear the eyes of animals were waiting for sunrise,
And the beast after 500 years was in search to taste his first human bite,
His desire to suck blood was raising high and high,
Alas it was not his lucky night as the solely walk ended early and he turned to ashes!



A horror unfolded on 6th of August , 1945 on
the eastern sky,
Enola Gay hidden in the clouds was about to the unsuspecting petrify .
Innocuous spindle shaped ‘little boy’ hurtled towards the ground,
And turned a bustling city into a huge burial mound.
The land erupted in screams, blood, limbs and torsos,
The humming city within minutes turned silent and comatose.
Hiroshima will down the pages of history,
As the first city to be atom bombed and ravaged bitterly.


The ancestral house over the hill top
Once gleamed with life and laughters nonstop
Flurry of activities and growing families
Let the young members pave there ways out in vanities
What was left behind were soft grey clouds with abounding stories
The granny and grandad replenishing the memories
Broken window panes along bare landscapes
The stimulus of love now being sold to unburden and escape.


The door creaked open all by itself
She stepped inside searching for Michelle
Who came every night in her spooky dreams
Deafened her ears with howls and screams
In the uncanny attic, she met Michelle
Who taught her witchery and how to cast a spell
With all her powers and potions in the creepy cauldron
She abracadabra’d the Corona maelstrom


A hefty prize announced for a selfie with the villa
Rumored to be haunted, many went missing visiting
Few returned, claiming no such house existed.
She sat on the rooftop, scanning at their past
It was clear, A tap! the house turned invisible.
Later, a few more, their violent act was evident
She swiftly buried them like how she was buried
Centuries ago, after the cruel humans manhandled her.

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