The Grey Hall Poem by Soren Valentine

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.