The cry for help broke my balance
my legs buckled, I fell to the ground
I felt the dead walk through me
and my soul seemed to splinter

Like a crack crazed puppet
I span around on my knees
crawled up to the door
beating it hard with my fists

Inside they howled like Banshees
willing me to break them out
my fists, blooded from the pounding
imbedded with glass, yet I had no care

I saw little plastic hands
banging on the leaded windows,
through the silver letterbox
pale hands tried to egg me on

Their frantic screaming
their hollow lives
their desperate hour
calling me to save them

Wanting freedom from this most unholy shop
for all within were the souls of the living
those who had sinned
and deemed unforgiven


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris