Feet tapping down linoleum
        Hallway with doors on each side.
I glance quickly, fearfully to the left,
        Quick shiver down the spine.

Their gazes frozen but accusatory
        Lidded eyes and proud mouths
High or flat cheekbones
        Hazy hair and darkness surrounds.

The whites and peaches are unhealthy
        Shades of curdled cream.
Skin of the dead still moving
        Behind the painted screen.

See the hands of some.
        Keep walking, pray they don’t move
Lest they think you too proud
        The strength of will they’ll prove.

Longing for eternity,
        They thought they’d found the way
To lasting immortality
        But death could not be swayed.

Prisoners of their long-lost past,
        Forced witnesses to arrogance,
Trading fates with any soul
        If given half the chance.

Softest rustling of fashions before
        As they reach beyond their frames
To grab and grasp, rip, tear, shred –
        I wake and scream in pain.