The tiny, musty box room,
Was the old room for the biggest fear of all.
It was known then,
And it’s known now.
Held for a museum for those who dare...
Thick, dark brown wallpaper covers the walls.
With tremendous strength, it’s ripped off,
Unleashing all evil once more,
Allowing further victims to be taken.
Beneath, lies sick, childish drawings,
That people can only dread coming true.
They’re the work of a youth,
A youth with the biggest talent of all;
Having no fears at all within.
She is the creator and master of all fear,
And she has been re awoken...
The estate agent desperately trying
To sell her evil house, is her newest victim.
She gets into his mind,
Then lures him to her.
Like the devil in disguise,
She tortures him in every way possible,
Making sure he is awake for every moment.
When it’s finally over for her,
She quickly begins on her next victim.
Will the torture ever stop?
Author notes
Written September 1st, 2005
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1 - 5 of 5
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Hey there. I enjoyed reading this because of the force that it was written in. Not force in the bad way, but force as in energy and meaning behind it. wonderful job!
take care,
x patientgrace x
Jasmine
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thanks alot for your applaud and comment
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thanks alot for the applaud and comment
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great poem! i loved it. it's very imaginative and dramatic. great job!
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Wow very dramatic. Love it. Awesome write, love the instense and eery feeling.
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