a shadow drifts across the glass
reflecting not the image pass
a vapor mist be-stills a kiss
as voices play a whispered hiss
pale and cold the narrow wrist
the veins of blue align the fist
walls show rips of narrow slits
nails have torn the years to bits
spider silk creates a lace
that lays across an ashen face
piles of dust flow to the edge
tossed by heels under the ledge
candles drip on marble plates
that light the tall and rusted gates
a piercing cry of hollow shrill
erupts the silence of the still
the birds of dark fly circle round
never close to meet the ground
the darkened stones leak slimy drips
that echoed sounds of leather whips
torches glow the textured walls
ghosts scream out in mournful calls
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