The Asylum

one stranger has come to share my room,

a visitor from a half forgotten time.

mad as a hatter, mad as March hare,

deranged.

she sits in the corner of my chamber,

an eerie stare she owns with sharp piercing eyes.

drenched in darkness, still as she is bare,

cryptic.

her shrieking captured, bounded by these for walls,

aimed towards me in the shadow of nightfall.

tainted being, tarnishing the stale air.

defiled.

she deludes with walking the nightmarish room,

creeping, peering as i lay with fear.

daunting, petrified, drenched with sweat,

foreboding.

she has come for me possessed, a girl mad as birds.

sitting on the foot of my bed as cold as the dead,

elated by my pillow bathe with pouring tears.

vile.

i pray, admit the saving light trough the padded walls,

salvage my soul from this malicious tourmentor,

who comes in the night and raves at her will.

fiendish.

her frigid skin touch these stiff feet,

disquietingly caresses them with vicious hands.

this ethereal visitor embraces me with her arms her cleavers.

festering.

bounded to my bed, brain malignant with insanity.

the halls of the madhouse evocative cries and wails of hysteria.

in this matress i lay pacified with her horror.

dread

once stranger has come to leave my room,

at long and dear last i catch a glimps of dawn on her fading arm,

a vision without fail the first ember that sets fire to a star.

freedom.