Sunday, May 6, 2012


Music boxes,
Paper dolls,
Blood spraying
Along the walls.
Corpses laying
Abundant and dead
Lookalikes of mannequins
With decapitated heads.
Sightless eyes
Mouths agape
Limp, pale bodies
With no hope for escape.
No thoughts,
No feelings,
Just expressionless faces
Staring up at the ceiling.
Even the room is filled
With the scent of dead
Or maybe it's just me
I'm filled with all this dread.

<Copyright Faith C. 2012>