From the rafters of the ceiling dripping with blood,
The floor of the mansion began to flood.
The cry of a child trapped in the wall.
A terrified woman screams in the hall.
The scratching of nails on the rotted wooden door,
Warm, sticky blood seeps through the next floor.
A draft of cold air swept down from above,
As cold clammy hands give a fierce shove.
You fall to the floor with a deadly thump.
The hair on your skin feels ready to jump.
You quickly scramble to your feet.
Your feel your heart rapidly beat.
Search for escape, any way out.
Cry, scream, kick, and shout.
Trapped in the darkness of this cold, empty room,
You realize this as your destined tomb.
Lying alone you begin to weep,
Then hear footsteps slowly creep.
The butcher knife gleams from the light of the moon.
Death is here. It will be soon.
A hideous figure hovering above you.
You peer at it helpless. Nothing you can do.
The sharpened knife pierces through your flesh.
The smell of your ripped up corpse, so very fresh.
Stab after stab you feel the terrible pain.
Your cries can’t be heard over thunder and rain.
The final stab is through your heart.
The creature hopes to tear it apart.
Pulling it clean from the pit of your chest,
You are now eternally laid to rest.
Close your eyes and take your last breath.
Taste bitter sadness of this plague called death.
Written By: Stevi Balsamo
