Echoing, dank,
Slime-covered corridors.
Why did we come here?
Rats squeak and creep,
Eating fungus from dark corners,
Each other.
Water drips,
The torch flickers.
Red dots glimmer,
Beady eyes watching hungrily.
Claws scratch against stone;
They are following us,
But to what end?
Faster, faster,
Frantic,
Looking,
But for what?
Flame sputters,
Running now,
Waves of rats following.
Spiders crawling,
Dropping onto us.
He grasps my hand,
The torch is out.
Rotting hands crawling,
Spreading slime.
We’re torn apart,
Yells echoing.
Knives slicing,
Falling,
Engulfed by rats,
Gnawing at wounds.
Pain, screaming,
No escape;
Eaten alive.
Nothing left but bloody skeletons.
A contest entry
- AP's Dark Poetry Cesspool (A dark poetry contest) by Miss Macabre.
800 points, ended September 12, 17 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
so, what do you guys think?
Comments
-
Please enter an older poem. Thanks.
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Eww, rats. I like the way you set this up, each short line had imagery and played an important part in flow and impact. Definitely a creepy setting, thanks for entering and good luck.
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