Regel Posted August 20, 2005 Report Posted August 20, 2005 (edited) This house has many dark corners. Damp with moisture, There are places where flies go to die. The cold drafts and creaky wooden floors, Have more than once fooled me Into believing I was not alone. Alone and dark it stands now quiet. It was once alive with the sights and sounds Of children’s laughter. This house was once a home, Its cracked boarded windows Still filters light on to vinyl tiles. Trapped here for all eternity Earthbound, restless, empty A shadow of what I once was. The smells of corruption fill my nostrils, As I stride downward to the basement Are the echoes of footfalls in my mind? There, in the darkest corner I shutter at what I might find, A nightmare spectre or a body defiled. Edited August 20, 2005 by Regel
Appy Posted August 20, 2005 Report Posted August 20, 2005 Ooooh *squeels with glee*, creepy yet metaphorically deep, I like it! I hampered a bit at the last line of the sixth stanza, but I put that down to not having had any coffee yet. Very smooth read, very strong image. Thanks for sharing.
WrenWind Posted August 23, 2005 Report Posted August 23, 2005 I felt myself walking with you. Very vivid!
Peredhil Posted August 23, 2005 Report Posted August 23, 2005 Thank you. It resonates in some private corners of my own.
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