In This House
...youth’s awakening eyes witnessed
the loss of heritage of light.
Shadows constantly calling,
bringing a nearness to the secretive night.
A surge of crimson droplets -
a soothing sense of control of fears.
Still, a darkness grows,
devouring hopes, over many years.
A purgatory of shame,
leaves a gasp for an agony of death.
Pelting rain and howling winds,
fill the chambers and captures ones breath.
The storm keeps raging -
birthing a bolstering darkness.
Pain: Persistent. Paralyzing
a mind leaking what is broken.
Quivering, in a darkening dream I lay -
alone.
Shadows, still, calling me home.
Leaving me to rot, reprieve - to atone.
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