Behind the Darkened Door

A fire, alight beside the darkened door that waits, shadow over its weathered bones; the flames envelop and choke the heart. A twisting fate winds like a snake: sliding, hissing, curling its wicked tongue - yet it's nothing but an earthworm when its eyes dig in and sear their gaze into your screaming mind. The fear; the fear is all you know now. An old man, infested with the maggots of his life, groans in his endless sleep and blinks away his final tear as he watches you, but not the you that is you: the one that you forgot. Your memory; your memory was all you had, but now its gone as you cower under the devilled eyes of the snake and fear to even reach for a strand of light. The unknown has conquered you. So what will you do? Where will you go? Can you even bear to move that finger that seeks out freedom though it was erradicated long ago? A black-thought tear expands in the gloom and slithers down your shaken form, but you can't bear to look at it, nor the eye that reflects in its sheen. This is all that's left for you now. This fate is all your fault. Perhaps, if you'd left that skull-crossed blade behind the darkened door with its weathered bones and its uncoiling snake and left your boiling anger in the small cauldron of dark-twisted hate and tossed the key away, the sun would still shine upon you and maybe, just maybe, you'd find that smile you left behind.