Empty holes of dark coffin spiders,
Left alone in a chamber of silence.
Sore stretched arms to push out wider,
Mind spinning full of violence.
Breathing sobs of memories,
Of the days centuries back.
When life was full of unnoticed treasuries,
Which slowly leave this cold quiet shack.
Dreading the moment when he comes,
Back to do the sick thing he loves.
Hearing the fearful beat my heart drums,
And the sound of clinking tools and his rubbery gloves.
My hope was long ago beaten,
My scars and bruises swollen.
My heart he has eaten,
My life he has stolen.