in the puddle a rat dying at last appear,
as the shutters drew back on the chamber floor.
From the water that fell upon the sore,
flash, flash the lightening bolt drew near,
the room is cold; I stand before the red door.
Death comes now as his eyes sunken no more,
laid back his shoulder shaken of austere,
as the shutters drew back on the chamber floor.
Managed to cling on a board near the drawer,
as his paws ripped the hold where splinter tear,
the room is cold; I stand before the red door.
Laid the cat ready to pounce, of hunger of abhor
smell, that cunning thirst, on the rickety to adhear,
as the shutters drew back on the chamber floor.
Blind eyes, cold of sapphire, where the gore
spew, laid out on the lewd, engaged its decor,
the room is cold; I stand before the red door,
as the shutters drew back on the chamber floor.
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