Sunday, 9 October 2022

Woman in black

 


Through corridors I run,

footsteps from behind still come.

Stomping sounds following,

echoing my heart

like a beating drum.

 

Creaking on the floorboards,

sweat pours,

dripping cold down my spine,

like fingers reaching for me

from beyond the end of time.

I feel I'm at the end of the line.

 

I glance back.

The shadow of a woman in black

stutters in and out of view.

Festering wounds. Patchwork skin.

Nerves wearing thin.

Gaping holes where eyes should reside.

Scurrying quickly, I'm terrified.

 

Dead end ahead,

No way to go just a wall instead.

I Squint back into the inky black.

She is still giving chase.

I feel electricity in the air,

fear is all I can taste.

 

I turn away not wanting to witness my fate,

knowing it's too late, but wishing for escape.

I can feel her hands getting closer,

I can smell the sour scent of her breath,

can sense her touch hovering over.

I tense and wait for death.

 

Intense thoughts flood my head,

am I dead, is this the afterlife?

I swim through the whirlpool of emotion,

find myself stranded in a deep black ocean.

The cold water I tread.

Soon to lose consciousness,

tiredness taking me.

I slip from living to dead.

I awaken in bed with a scream.

Shaken. It was just a bad dream.

But there in my room,

the woman towers monstrously over me.

Her face can never be mistaken

and she is the last thing I ever see.

 

 

 

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Peace, Love and Poetry 
 
Kyle


 

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