Poetry And Mixed Feelings

The Dead Zone

Blood stains and broken glass

were littered about the walls and floors

The dust had gathered on the furniture and china,

Maggots and flies swarmed and ate at rotting flesh

on corpses and the little bits

Left on bones.

It wreaked of death and decay,

While with each step you took,

The floor would creak and your stomach would

churn.

The sight was grim and bleak as the mutilated

Victims were rotting.

Even the scavengers and hunters wouldn't enter.

The crib in the corner of the room had a broken porcelain

Doll lying in it with limbs missing and

Hair matted and tangled, no owner in sight.

The house was never disturbed, or demolished.

Most say there is an ominous feeling you get upon entering.

I say otherwise.

This house had once been beautiful, and colorful,

but now lies as a horrid reminder

of the cruelty of humanity.

This house is called the Dead Zone for a reason.

Get out.

Or die like the rest of them...