Phantoms pressed inside the walls,
faces with mouths open wide,
crying as I try to walk,
down the slanted, narrow hall.
Touching cold and hollow floors,
hearing whispers in my head,
wishing somehow They would know...
that I'm thinking of the dead.
How I got here, I don't know,
but, I realize the truth,
that some souls must tread a path,
'till the Dark...will someday pass.
Regis
GOD BLESS
Tony Nerone
Reminds me of those old tenement dwellings of old
in my youth, I used to fear walking through.....
Excellent write
Love & peace be with you
William