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Sep 2019
A Crowded room bathed in garnet light,
In it, the dammed, desolately await their fate,
Clawing at barbed wire curtains,
Crying as their fears find them.

Hotel Paranoia,
Neon sign blinks, winking at weary strangers,
Manchester back street, off beat Air B&B boutique,
For £45,
A trip into drug induced escape.

Come all ye strangers,
All ye weary Brexit betrayers,
Take a night flight into your dreams,
Fly till your heart rips.

She wanders in golden gardens full of perfumes,
Crowds of travellers find sweet love,
Bliss in the arms of a long lost love,
Till morning comes and gloom returns.

Winding down, sweet Nicole finds something crawling up her sleeve,
Blistering skin peels and blood soaks the sheets,
Dreams become screams and around her,
In the garnet room, travellers find hell.

Flesh crawls with many legged bugs and thugs wielding clubs pull syringes from the floor,
Whilst guests rest in pools of *****,
Their fears coasting, rolling, uncontrolled,
Bliss fades and fear breaks bones.

Far from home in Hotel Paranoia,
Weary fools fly from bliss to fear,
Lights become fires,
Floors become wired,
Dripping taps spill acid onto skin.

Disappear here,
Lie down and disappear.
Written by
Stephen Moore  M
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