Through the empty hallway of this cheap hotel,
I trample on,
in search of my chaperon.
But who was it,
I started my journey with anyway?
The flickering lamps and waning wall-paint,
Whisper a horror tale,
like Judas' parable.
As I shiver alone,
In memory of our parting day.
The doors all closed, with dirty eye-holes,
And the dead walls,
Never returning my calls,
Make the screams like songs sound,
Along that confined corridor.
The clocks without hands stare,
At my feet,
and the carpet underneath.
As in my shadows, I found,
The friend I'd been looking for.
And now me and my shade per se,
In tattered shirt,
and denim dark,
Stroll the vacant hall,
Hunting for our new compadre.
Good use of imagery. A well drafted and nicely thought-out poem. Thanks for sharing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The flickering lamps and waning wall-paint, Whisper a horror tale, like Judas' parable. As I shiver alone, In memory of our parting day. Beautiful right by imagery and metaphors,10++, thanks for sharing