Down, down I am hurled,
where the waves climb high,
down into an eerie world,
where the ghosts of sound pass by.
Taken to a grey hall,
with the metal door at the end,
as the heels begin to fall;
the sound will vanish I pretend.
But it gets louder, banging in my ears,
and it makes my skin crawl;
it is a root to my fears,
and the door shakes at the end of the hall.
I hide under the table,
and her laughter unmasks my horror;
how quickly I am ripped from this fable,
and the heartbeat's hum doesn't lower.
And now you plague me in my waking,
as people look at me with fear,
because I pulsate and I'm shaking,
but your banging they cannot hear.
Heavy breaths...
Bodiless fingers...
Maggots on my skin...
Screaming in madness...
A flickering light...
A white face...
Help me...
Run.
Help me...
Escape.
And now you plague me in my waking, as people look at me with fear, because I pulsate and I'm shaking, but your banging they cannot hear. That's my favorite part. I like how it conveys others lack of understanding. Someone can't undersand your reaction, if they don't know what your really reacting to. But I like the whole poem too. It's unexpected, yet excellent terrorsome storytelling.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I really loved it all, you truly wrote a good suspension poem.