Hole- Part Two
Onward and into the darkest room of plague and pestilence.
Gruesome scenes wholly worthy of disgust and abhorrence.
She clutched herself deeply; vomiting, screaming, collapsing.
She wished she had not moved on from the light
She tried to turn back but found she could not fathom how.
The exit from the room full of light was gone, as if it had never been.
And so she had no choice but to push through the dead.
She tried to drown out her senses but could not.
She tried to overcome the fear but could not.
On through the disease and the vapid pools of bodily fluid.
Through plague sores and vile pustules oozing black blood.
Through stinking, rotting flesh, infested and weeping death.
O, the glorious, terrible death, looming darkly everpresent.
The sound of cannibals eating one another, savoring flesh.
The murderous God damned sounds ripping through her.
On through the death and the darkness; true shadows.
Enveloping her in an atmosphere of grotesque despair.
Conspiring, consuming; she can hear them whispering.
‘I can smell your sweet meat, girl.’
‘You have a beautiful carcass, young one.’
‘Have you ever seen someone smile from the inside out?’
Pushed, suddenly, as if by a guardian angel, into a pool of cleansing water.
Fluxing, warping, weirdly washing away all of the fear and pain.
Senses finally dull and body all awash in numbness.
The flow pulls and pushes her through the water.
Pulling out all negativity through her mouth.
Then giving back the purity of her self.
The flow never stopped, and she knew it would not ever stop.
But she did not suspect the inevitability of her passage.
Through once again and back into darkness.
Copyright © Owen Shaw | Year Posted 2015
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