Smoke Poem by angel lockheart

The walls tremble,
The pictures quiver,
The clock chimes are silenced,
Barely a whisper shivers through,
The windows water colors,
Of blues and silvers,
A mixed hue of different shades.
The lightning slashes,
And for a moment,
Lights up the room with an eerie glow,
Then the thunder rumbles,
Making the candle flames dance,
And the wax shakes,
Until it slowly tips over,
The hot liquid coats my hand,
Running between my fingers in rivets,
To pool in my palm,
Searing my white flesh,
The candle wick snuffed out,
& the swirl of smoke spirals up,
Circling my body,
The wicked grey wrapping around me,
Its feverish hand covering my mouth,
Forcing its way in,
And I try to take a gasp of breath,
But the smoke closes my throat,
Filling my senses to overflow,
Stinging my eyes like sand,
The dark murky smell slicing through the thick chilled air,
Cutting it into elegant fragments,
Suspended in air,
Frozen in time,
Until another crash resounds,
And they tumble
Dead,
To the floor.