Goth

In the bleeding shadows threading ***** and deft Along and above corridors painted white and green, Fluorescents flickered in their moth-brushed bowls, And the madness and sweet anguish seethed unseen. It was felt in the bones of the new and the old, The creeping electric bristle of marrow and moss, Sucking like leeches on the calcium and the blood, Until the ligaments and plasma were nocturnal candyfloss. Stole by the winds, the whisperings of the grave, Uttered earthen verses, muttered fever of neurosis, And the crowbars in the eyeballs of those who slept unsound Soon let them dream again in a crystal meth psychosis. Asylum gargoyles spewed their eternal gushing rain From out of mouths wide open and torrentially agape, Until the drains were flooding with the sewage of despair And the land beyond the walls held only death as an escape. In the clinic by the lamp a needle glinted in the light, Hypodermic glowing amber, loaded with paraldehyde, And the king of all insanity, now driven mad by ghosts, Shot it up until the death, until by his own hand he died.