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del-maximoPoems
she exists now in a dream state unaware of the horror and the passage of time wind rushes through broken panes moaning mournfully floors creak and door hinges speak announcing her presence this was her house once a place of light and love full of family and friends cotillions resonating with music and dance and lively conversation a grand kitchen to prepare the feasts of pheasant under glass a gazebo for laughing in the rain arbors for moonlit meetings with owls a pond for lilies and croaking frogs gardens for picking her favorite peonies a nursery for her children all this now nothing but ruins from happiness to a home for bugs and bats crawling with silverfish, centipedes and black widows shrouded in cobwebs drowning in dust suffocating in stench of rotting wood and desolation decorated with 100 year old bloodstains she never saw her killer never saw the spurting of her arteries never heard her children’s screams and death rales she sees her house as it was and every night she roams the rooms calling her children’s names in long, haunting whispers
0
Oct 26, 2010
Oct 26, 2010 at 9:12 AM UTC
Gisela
she exists now in a dream state unaware of the horror and the passage of time wind rushes through broken panes moaning mournfully floors creak and door hinges speak announcing her presence this was her house once a place of light and love full of family and friends cotillions resonating with music and dance and lively conversation a grand kitchen to prepare the feasts of pheasant under glass a gazebo for laughing in the rain arbors for moonlit meetings with owls a pond for lilies and croaking frogs gardens for picking her favorite peonies a nursery for her children all this now nothing but ruins from happiness to a home for bugs and bats crawling with silverfish, centipedes and black widows shrouded in cobwebs drowning in dust suffocating in stench of rotting wood and desolation decorated with 100 year old bloodstains she never saw her killer never saw the spurting of her arteries never heard her children’s screams and death rales she sees her house as it was and every night she roams the rooms calling her children’s names in long, haunting whispers
© October 23, 2010
Written by
del-maximo
Oct 26, 2010
Oct 26, 2010 at 9:12 AM UTC
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