This prison of the soul

some Gothic sense

This prison of the soul. 
This hollow place full of nothing 
but an empty space. 
Behind the bars of steel and grief, 
that only fears and ghosts could interfere….
These dungeons made of wasted dreams, 
covered with a web of frozen tears.
A little hell burning down every trace of hope, 
every little sound. 
The only window in this fiery cage
doesn’t bring a tiny change. 
Instead of being source of 
morning light, there’s only sorrow, 
darkness , ugly sight. 
Not even piece of spark could break the walls
in this world ruled by a mighty force. 
The only guest of this tower of remorse 
that creeps late at night 
and opens sores is stepping on 
a carpet made of broken glass, 
tearing apart suffered gusts and scars. 
And then the silence crumbles down, 
fractured by an awful sound. 
And now the only traces of what once used to be a heart
are few little drops of blood
and scattered pieces on the sooty ground. 
This silent hell of crazy thoughts. 
This precipice with endless sores. 
Sank into this madness deep, 
fears crawling, sadness creeps. 
Diving careless, falling down, 
spinning raging seeks the ground. 
Instead of reaching out the end,
relieving all the pain,
this precipice it seems to grow, 
holding up a tired soul. 
There’s no letting go, 
like this crazy twist of thoughts 
had wrapped around this world of weird hopes. 
And in it’s own imaginary space 
the time had stop, had won the race. 
There’s no route leading out, 
no salvation only doubt. 

Reviews

[Lisa Victoria]

I love your use of imagery to describe a tortured soul....very sombre piece. I enjoyed reading this:)

[Ravyne Hawke]

Wonderful dark write. Lots of haunting imagery and gothic undertones. You did a wonderful job of keeping the melancholy tone of this piece throughout. Great job.

[Dee]

Thank you, Lori. I am glad you enjoyed it