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Black scars, a dusted trail

Bloodied fingers dug in deep

The scent of clay and earth

 

Shimmering lights

Blinking and buzzing

An empty caveat

“Beware all those who enter”

 

I see shadows move, slithering

I feel the chill around me

Strangled in a dreamlike haze

 

From the outside looking in

A thousand listless eyes

Spectators in this shadow play

 

The blood drips on the floor

One drop at a time

Like the ticking of a clock

Leaving black scars

And a dusted trail behind

 

Time does not heal all wounds