The Slaughterhouse

Grey walls, Iron bars, high above they tower,
With cracks and dents, here and there,
The floor reveals a gory red smear,
In the Slaughterhouse of silent tears.

Of blood-smeared cries that echo through the halls,
Severed limbs and bones, and succumbed souls,
Of shackles, of blades, of festering fears,
Of pain, of Death, and deathless despair.

Of unheard prayers, and silent sufferings,
Of ruthlessness and chilling captivity,
Of devouring fears and simmering spite,
Such, the cold kiss of Death is a welcome respite.

'Tis here I stand, confronting Fate
Waiting and withering, at the doorsteps of Death,
Everything's fading, before my eyes.
Perhaps, it always was, I just didn't notice...

Reviews

[Sasha]

Very Good. loved this poem. Thanks for sharing

[Hirannya]

This is probably one of the best poems I've ever read.

[Prantik Ali]

"Everything's just fading, before my eyes.
Perhaps, it always was, I just didn't notice..."

It's been weeks since I read this first but I still can't get over these two lines.