Behind the North Room Door

Written by: Caryl Muzzey

A chill drifted past the staircase
lingered then dissipated;
while the rustic oil lamp flickered, 
hesitating to die. 
Gasping to calm emotions, before 
feelings of faint overpower wit.
A continuous bumping in the lulling 
darkness sends an anxious heart racing,
with a pulsating echo in the still night.

Shadows appear in the faint light,
jutting sporadically, lunging in a haze
of blindness.
Closed eyes make visions vanish; only
for a suspended moment.
To glimpse the whisper from the north room; 
would satisfy curiosity; possibly.
With humidity high and gelid, no one 
dare enter the isolated space.

A heavy stomping, something sliding 
from behind the closet door.
A sudden moan like a lost whale in a 
vast sea.
Like a dying breath gasping, something
pawing, clawing; then no more.
In the murky, dank midst of solemn 
surroundings, solitude submits; flinging 
the door open.

Shall defiance capture fears remotely 
of the unknown, driving consternations
amid reality.
Take a step, feel the anticipation of pure 
anonymous deception.
Enter at will, obscurity awaits dreadful
clandestine to the weary.
The oil light dances and dies leaving the
north room door ajar.

Copyright © 2006 By Caryl S. Muzzey

Eighth Place Winner ~ "Your deepest darkest poem” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Poet Destroyer
March 22, 2013