Darkest Days

Nameless

A wrap-around staircase that leads to darkness,

Down and down I go in search of my demon.

Trembling at the knees, that vast emptiness

Enveloping my surroundings, it deepens.

The wood of the floorboard creaks and moans

Creating a staccato of noise in my ears

But like stuffing cotton in my ear drums,

The fright acts as a mute and muffles fears.

Iron railing rusts over from the moisture in the air

And roaches scatter with each step taken,

Nearing the depths of my own personal hell,

Scared of what beasts hidden that might awaken.

As I breathe, my cloud of breath starts to appear

For the temperature drops and the chill is aware

Of the warm body approaching it, wanting to snuff it out.

A silent scream echoes like a recurring nightmare.

My numb movements stop right above the last step.

In the sudden silence, a breathing pierces the dust,

Slow, ragged and low, it gasps over and over,

A devil wreaking havoc and suffering its own disgust.

Down here in its basement, it lives alone.

With no doors and no windows to escape its prison,

And no mirrors to witness its horrible face,

With stark white walls to cover in other's crimson.

As I wait in darkness for the beast to approach,

I extend my quivering hand, outstretched for it.

Its nails scratch sharply across the floor and,

I can hear its bones breaking and being split.

The groans and screams are horrible to listen to,

But it must be called to attention in front of me.

I have to bear a hold over it for it to listen to me,

To have control of what has no name in thee.

The beast is finally shed to the little light there is,

Allowing for the horrid of its face to be shined on.

In place of eyes, there are gaping black holes and

Stitches replace a mouth that's hard to gaze upon.

The monster's skin is desiccated to a rotting point,

Causing a ghastly odor from my prisoner venom.

Its fingers are hinged with claws and are knotted up.

Appendages holding on by mere veins and tendon.

As it kneels before me, I shiver from its wretched complexion.

My hand, still left out, is now in the hold of this nameless.

Stroking it, the beast cowers closer to me, whimpering.

As I steady my breaths, I rip my hand from its contagiousness.

My hand reflexively knocks it back and it scurries away.

Frightened by what it might do it me, I step back into the cavity.

Its cries are loud and piercing my ear drums till they bleed.

Becoming deaf, I instinctively race back up stairs to my sanity.

As I pound away on the creaking wood floors and

Grasp the wrought iron rails, its cries still follow me.

I hate that my demon wails so furiously when it's what

Caused me to hate it; by being the ugly parts of me.