In This House

...youth’s awakening eyes witnessed the loss of heritage of light. Shadows constantly calling, bringing a nearness to the secretive night. A surge of crimson droplets - a soothing sense of control of fears. Still, a darkness grows, devouring hopes, over many years. A purgatory of shame, leaves a gasp for an agony of death. Pelting rain and howling winds, fill the chambers and captures ones breath. The storm keeps raging - birthing a bolstering darkness. Pain: Persistent. Paralyzing a mind leaking what is broken. Quivering, in a darkening dream I lay - alone. Shadows, still, calling me home. Leaving me to rot, reprieve - to atone.