Down that dark burning hall,
That burning hall where it is cold
As at ice that burns in my heart.
That hall that haunts the deepest
Horrid memories of myself and my nightmares.
I run, I run with a burning love down that place
As cold as ice and it stabs and pierces my lungs
As I scream for mercy.
But as I run down that hall searching for my
Most desired treasure, no matter how hard
I run or how far I search all I find, is them.
Three I see, they stare, baring into my mind and
My soul. And that penetrating stare that haunts
Me and my very worst nightmares.
These faces, one, two, three that I flee, I fear will
Never leave. I scream in despair for the mercy
That I beg for but that they refuse to bestow upon me.
Come, come to me three faces that I so
Desperately flee, I now accept thee.
Clayton J. young