Twas the horrific of the scream

that set the place aflame

the crying little tears

that sprouted from the pain,

eyes a blood red stain

spilling through the vein

nails broke in counts of ten

crack the neck and strain,

the walls would clamor

through out the night

whimpering in darkened tones

at the calling of sweet Mandy

down the halls where she would roam.

Tightrope falling

Where are all the eyes

my head beneath my feat

a handful pleading ways

iron filling the street,

emotions are a button

hearts on every sleeve

persuasion on the cap

arriving just to leave.

Cry of the loony bird

It was the sleep that seeped so steady within,

allowing the night to see.

As darkness filled the vessel,

all light would seem to dream;

breathing mounting one to another,

gasping for residue,

anything that it may grasp,

over a heaping,

clamoring view.

The dark would make its landing,

over all the waking thought,

preying upon the vitals,

leading on to desperate thought;

alas, there is no way,

as the way upon the senses,

confusing all that would be,

in the open simulation.

Walking along their ready made,

accepting empty truths,

just fitting in so neatly,

among the other rues.