Realm Of Terror

You are entering the realm of terror, it's made with our own personal nightmare. Just because the blood isn't yours to spill, doesn't mean you get away after the kill. Clammy fingers attached to a nervous hand, causes you to hesitate as she reaches in demand. Her insidious smile fraught with a disturbed thought, widens your worry with her undoubtful elation. You have a fear in your eyes eaten out by evil of this kind, the evil of your own creation. The realm of terror crawls into your mind, and swirls through your brain. Evil clouds your thoughts when all you see is the blood stain. Your face white with fright on this night, the moon so pale. The color of wind storms and hail. Rough hail that pounds down on your hollow shell, a shell abandoned long ago. Existing in this fiery hell, there is no witness to the murder only you know. Seems so sad but you can barely feel, caught in the realm of terror's wheel. Beg with your hands of blood on muddy knees.The realm of terror slashes your throat, silencing your useless pleas. Sequestered beyond these walls they seek silence. The lights out, it is dark and it is late. The anointment of the spirits an enigma, inside a mind filled with sheer terror and fate. Reminiscent of the shattered illusions, and the caustic nightmares that roll around in his head. He knows they are here and are waiting, and their presence will be all that he dreads. They come as sordid spirits sent by demons, and slither in through the cracks in the walls. Waiting for darkness to cast their doom, the wooden floors creak as they walk down the halls. Discontentment reaps dreams that are broken, wretched cries scream as they walk in the night. Leaves him pulsating in a sensation of torture, nowing he's approaching the end of his life. Aesthetic perfection only a figment, misguided passions take on the roll of the dead. Take heed in the night of the apocalypse, and he cries as he lays on his bed. He has tried but he cannot dissuade them, the envision that they will take him away. Into their darkness where spirits thrive, and with his life he is going to pay. Gallantly desperate and lonely his tears pierce the essence of time, based on the pretence of ignorance. He feels inadequate and he just wants to die. So tired of the fear that controls him, an insomniac from trepidation the dark brings. Just take him and end all the pain, but they just fly away with blooded wings. They disengage from their compulsion back into the walls,and they wait for another darkness of night. An he will appease them by trembling in fear once again, and expose his damaged soul to their deadly havoc. Death lingers forever, just a breath away.