When the darkness is all around,
All that's left to me is sound,
The sound of my thoughts as they are rewound,
While whispers of saudade perforate the ground,
Interrupting meditations so profound.
The shadows shift, they undulate,
Perhaps hell's gates are ajar this late,
Perhaps they are what my mind creates,
Eyes lie, until dawns light escapes.
Distant creeks from spirits or delusion,
Noises without origin cause such confusion,
Fear of the unknown haunts this room,
While closer and closer it seems to loom.
Doors opened by ...