Sinister Masqurade
Tourniquet tightens your grip slips away,
sobriquet veins will stop their play,
wriggling fingers will cease to stay.
Stain the sheets with dreams of dying,
but pain will keep your hopes at bay.
Insanity painted these walls a long time past,
kept the screams inside its cast,
surgeon’s blood from inside a cask,
evil has broke its human fast.
Up the alley away from town,
demonic dreams like a misfit clown,
occult craves a footstep’s sound,
nails leave trails on the ground,
only their screams were ever found.
By: Shahroz S. Mousavi
"A Creepy, Scary Haunted House Poem, Please" Contest
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