Walls

The deep Crimson walls always appeared wet,

was that a trickle seeping,
as if blood had been let?

or was it those musty silent walls

reeking, Shrieking of what lay behind
something had lain dormant

of the macabre kind.

Memories, terrified energies

could not lay to rest,

of beaten brow and concaved chest.

Horrors penetrate, corroding every brick,

retching, congealed blood-curdling, sick

Stifled echoes, harrowing calls

Evil mocks Tragedy

in blood dripping walls,

tapping, hammering, rapping

skin-scraped knuckles raw.

Walls closing in; futile efforts, claw

Hackles rise, goose Bumps in the night

Unhallowed Death Screams their blight.

Only damp red walls leave clues behind,

this Morbid concealed Shrine, out of sight.

1 Kudos

Displaying 0 of 0 comments ( View all | Add Comment )