***
Four closed walls,
A high ceiling.
A metal door,
With no ending.
She looks aghast,
Eyes flickering.
Searching an escape,
Feels everything crumbling.
Unaware how she got here,
Why does it feel like a nightmare?
Heavy steps,
Midway tripping.
Getting up,
With her knees bleeding.
With no care,
Haphazardly moving.
With the want to escape,
Her veins are buzzing.
Unaware how she got here,
Why does it feel like a nightmare?
With every step,
The time is ticking.
With feeble hands,
Her fists are banging.
Sore throat,
Yet she's screaming.
With crippling panic,
Her ears are ringing.
Unaware how she got here,
Why it feels like a nightmare?
She looks back,
The spooky walls,
The pitch black corridors,
The dark, murky depths,
The never-ending trails.
The eerie creepy feels,
The silent hushed noises.
Unaware how she got here,
Why it feels like a nightmare?
Her heart, throbbing.
Her palms, sweating.
Her brain, freezing.
Her soul, shaking.
She can feel,
The bile rising.
Her nerves,
Slow the pumping.
Unaware how she got here,
Why it feels like a nightmare?
Her insides sink
Her eyes release
The unleashed barriers
In form of rivers of tears.
They feel scalding
On her cold skin
YOU ARE READING
From my Heart's Attic
Poetry'From my Heart's Attic' is an ad-lib, a collection of poems. "Poetry is far vital a truth than history." Created in the spur of the moment, these poems are just randomly spewed thoughts , emotions and feelings I wrote with my heart's initiative. ...
