The Hallway

October 23, 2008
Eyes Open,
In a narrow corridor.
Dark and damask,
Far from bare,
Far from plain.

Blackened walls,
Festooned with spider webs.
A charred floor,
With broken glass and shattered bone.
Torn Curtains,
Blowing in...
Wind from the outside...
Singing a sepulchral song...
Through empty, spectral windows.

I start ahead.

Reading the walls,
Decorated with a vichyssoise of verbiage,
Left by vindictive vermin past.

I lurk nearer and nearer,
Like a shadow on the wall.
Towards a rotted door,
A charred remnant of glory.

My hand extends,
My heart pounding,
War drums in the deep.
My palms sweat,
Drenched in blood.

The doorknob, aged and rusted.
Reaching inevetably.
Pushed by curiosity,
An unknown force.

The door flies open.

I wake shaking,
Wide-eyed, and petrified.

Claws rip my bed sheets
Shredding and surrounding me.
Closing me in.
I curl up inside,
My world now red and black.

I am safe now...

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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

VampAlice said...
Nov. 10, 2008 at 12:02 pm
It's a good poem, truly embodies dementia and doesn't seem goth, but exudes an aura of darkness. Great job overall.
Qiao Jai said...
Nov. 7, 2008 at 12:03 pm
It is a great poem...I fully commend your creativity and suggest you post more things. I also urge the Teen Ink staff to submit this to print.
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