Lost

Grotesque, decrepit halls

Filled with livid porcelain dolls

Staring down upon us all

Watching as we fall

 

Hallways with scent of death

Make us forget to breathe even a breath

Our apprehension they test

To have ever entered, we regret

 

These pathways we lament

Walls stained with a blackened tint

Of directions, they give us hints

So, it's the wrong way we've went

 

Winding labyrinth, crawling on forever

Lost and hopeless, we tremble

The minds behind this are cryptic and clever

Demented on the highest of levels

 

Narrow and eerie is this pit

Upon the walls, shadows hit

Moving violently in a monstrous fit

Onto our corpses, words of hatred they spit

 

In this hell of pain and fright

It would be vulgar to attempt a fight

But they're stronger, we lose our sight

Somehow seeing even less light

 

Lost in this cold, confusing world

We do nothing but sit and wait on the floor

With no remembrance of anything from before

Searching, we lose acquirement of anything more

 

Reviews

[waleed blacko]

thats just more than great...i salute u my friend...so dark and cold...i totally like it,,

[barricade]

Dark, cold and distorted...disturbing imagery...loved what you've done here...great job!!!

"Narrow and eerie is this pit
Upon the walls, shadows hit
Moving violently in a monstrous fit
Onto our corpses, words of hatred they spit"

these words have such a deep impact on the reader...the grotesque feeling, the gloom, the dark expressed perfectly! makes one feel a part of the entire image...!

regards
barricade...

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Quite amazing... this world can seem very cold and dark causing us to become disoriented emotionally... very powerful and descriptive piece.

[Nicholas Whitney]

This is very good. It reminds me somewhat of one of Tolkiens "Lays of Beleriand"

"Into the vast and echoing gloom
more dread than many tunneled tome
in labyrinthine pyramid
where everlasting death is hid"

I think that's how is goes. Anyway, same oppressive and gloomy feeling. I'm not a poet myself, but when a poem can grab you and not let go until you get to the end it must be good.

[Malcolm]

WoW