Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2013
Just below the cellar you can hear a gentle thumping
bumping in the midnight calling out to ask for something

Thumping in the hallways and the rooms of little girls
in the washroom and the kitchen just the thought makes my blood curl

It all must be of nothing I have told me many nights
only louder in the darkness till my mind has no such plight

Pleading with kitchen and panels of the wall, of the stairs that lead to darkness right above the cellar floor
Pleading for the bumping, to cease throughout the night
yet my pleading is politeness that responds with terrid freight

The thumping has grown louder, yet no one is stil awake
only I to fight this battle with the king for heavens sake

Spears and bones have knashed and yet a pulse can still be heard
I shall die alone in sadness, never knowing what was burned

Yet amid a morning sunset, with the calling of the crow
all the thumping and the bumping had disbanded from the thrown

In the midst of my confusion , I lay awake pondering illusions
Was it all a gentle dream
or must it all mean something more

Just above the cellar you can hear a gentle bumping
thumping in the midnight calling out to ask for something
R Guildenstern
Written by
R Guildenstern  Toronto
(Toronto)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems