Poem- Dead Secrets

This is a poem I wrote a while ago, based off some imagery. It’s a little dark because, well, it’s me.

Dead Secrets

The dungeon looms- small, full of darkness and memories

The grey stone is cold as ice against my touch

Shadows stretch like grasping hands

The torchlight is a pulsing heartbeat of burning orange

Too dull to bring light

Too bright to let the shadows hide in the dark

Long-ago prayers are carried on the wind

Whispering in my ears

Seductive, entrancing

Skeletons stretch out long-dead fingers

Bleached white, covered with cobwebs

Their wrists are snared in metal bonds

Dead eyes look at me

Across the cell and across the years

Their gaze unrelenting, unweakened by time

I turn away

I run, but the whispers carry on

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