your rusty powdered chains dug deep
anchoring your bones to lanky long keys
resting in tormented locks
melted in the heat of hell
as the screams marked the passage of time
not your screams though
your bony white jaw long decayed
so you stare down the centuries
through empty sockets
in the pitch black dark
alone in the company of others
their bony thin fingers
pointing at your soul
crushed beneath the weight of time
whispering 'it's him! it's him!
whimpering in fear
condemned to share these cursed years
in white heat infernos
forged to your bones
forged to your terror
time passing slowly
YOU ARE READING
Weird Reads
PoesíaPoems & Prose to read when your coffee is on the brew. A mixture of the light and dark in life. Strange writing from the pen of a weird mind. Caution advised before reading.
