Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2021
Statues shining ever bright
over walkways glowing white,
with souls that walked into the light,
bound there in forever night.
Statues show their daunted gaze
and keep their eyes 'this haunted I'm led,
towards the distance, passed the graves
to the House of Red.

Shadows follow as I walk,
and I feel their hands behind me.
I pray these demons that I talk
should never come to find me.
Though, when they do I'd pray be dead
that I may not know when;
for through the gates of this House of Red
I know I'll come again.

Footsteps follow towards me
from the House of Red,
as footsteps go on from me
to the doorstep where I'm led.
Following I wonder,
Am I already dead?
Perhaps I'm resting underneath
this unhallowed House of Red.

Statues keep their eyes on me
as I walk up to the door.
There's fainted laughter echoing
from those that laugh no more.
This house is empty I can see
and it feels my soul with dread,
as I open up the door to be
inside the House of Red.

But lost inside I wonder,
What'd I leave behind?
It can't be that important
if it's no longer on my mind.
Perhaps I could've gone
another way instead.
Either way I'd come again
into this House of Red.
Written by
Michael
424
   Imran Islam
Please log in to view and add comments on poems