Darkness of the Steeple

On the steps,

Before my house,

the Sun sets,

Closing up the distance,

Of Holy and of the Mortal,

Laughter,

My daughter plays in the courtyard,

And towards the steeple she ran,

My voice hoarse with unheard warnings,

My legs crumpled with useless chasing,

Too late,

The Sun Set,

To warn my daughter 

I have failed,

And unaware she opened the Steeple's door,

The Darkness welcomed her,

As the hands dragged her inside,

I couldn't warn her,

How corrupt it has become,

That place that was once so full of light...

During the time I have banged my fists until raw,

on the door of the Steeple,

I have realized that it was too late,

My precious sweet little daughter ,

Was forever dead...

Author's Note

Kind of inspired by Robert Frost's life ...but not really...^ ^
, if there are any grammatical mistakes feel free to correct me :P

Reviews

[Arithcia]

hoarse not hoars. Otherwise, this is a bit sad & it's well written. Nice job!

[Linear]

Dark and damp is the feel of cobwebs trailing, as boney fingers grasp and pull, tearing clothes and flesh alike to take you straight to hell ......... scary stuff, poor poor girl left all alone with no one to call, not even her mother to protect her, lest she should fall