The Blue Shuttered House on Fear Street

Hushing specters leaping 

from one room to another.

Shrieking a plea.

'Be gone!'

She howled.

Not a wolf could

amount to such a scream.

Piercing the ears of the children

blocks down.

Wrecking her own bleeding

mentality.

From the needles,

she closes her glossy eyes.

Sweating out the high.

Hemorrhaging from her arms

as shes swimming in the asylum.

Ventose voices arrange her dreams 

into nightmares.

Twisting her head 'round.

Her arched back perspirating

through the tattered 

white sheets.

Another nauseating howl.

The shadow of a spiders leg,

the pit of her glassy 

hallucinations.  

Inkblot blemishes decay her bed.

Rot it into a flame.

Her blue shuttered house.

Refraining from the matches.

She grabs one.

Howling another shriek.

No control over herself.

A shrouded veil o're

her face. 

Blasphemy took over.

Look what shes done.

Up in flames it goes.

Her vanity she used as 

a resting place.

Leaving the ashes to 

decompose her 

Blue Shuttered House.

Breaking out with an oil lamp

and her bare feet.

Darts to a shaken,

rotted night terror.

Something she fears.

Grasping her life.

Sinking fangs into a life that

was ruined by blasphemers. 

No words can be written to describe

the death of she.

She wrote a plea,

nor brush strokes can paint 

on a canvas.

The blood of a lamb, 

finding the innocence lying

lifeless in her redemption web.

Dangling teeth o're her

translucent neck.

Devouring her poisoned body.

Watching the blood drip from the web

that wraps around her physique.

She won't succumb to her

trepidation. N'er she will.

An unfortunate plea she made.

A howling plea no one saw,

nor heard.

The hellish extortion ruined she.

Forth righting everything she 

owned.

Her sores were of a man

who seeped deep within her spine.

Sitting tight when he snapped his fingers.

Tightening his web to suffocate demented

innocence. 
Liquefying her bones.

Drinking marrow

out of the ashes of bone left 

of little innocence.

Before,

long ago when in a vein realm

she so desperately cringed

to escape.

She seared instead.

Instead she blew out.

Exploding through the posts.

Splintering her porch

where she rocked her little ones,

they too burned.

Bringing more life then death

For they did not suffer.

Only ashed as the Blue Shuttered House

scorched through the night.

To be a witness of such a murder.

The blood stains on her 

ink blotted blouse,

what a witness to be apart.

Disguising mistakes with good-bye.

Peeling back the skin on the little ones.

Piled on top of each other like wood.

Although, 

many souls dancing free

on this night,

there still serves a reminder 

of the fears in this Blue Shuttered House.

Author's Note

I know its just a bunch of nonsense. But if you really read in between the lines there's a moral. Your reviews are greatly appreciated, also criticism.((:

Reviews

[Tomislav Petricevic]

I like this. The story inside the poem is great, and some of your more complicated expressions kinda add up to it. They make it all dark, and perhaps a bit mystical. And the imagery is very good, I could perfectly see it all happening in my head.
Awesome job!