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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Contest Entry · #1673571
Written for Sherri Gibson's Coloring The World Contest
HAUNTED CORRIDORS

The night was pitch black, not even a sliver of moonlight
to break through the darkness so deeply felt in her heart.
She walked the haunted corridors, possessed by demons
that would not let her forget, rest was out of the question.

She held the knife tightly in her hand, entering his room.
He slept soundly, unaware of the danger he would face.
Her starched white uniform was in sharp contrast with eyes
that found no compassion, a nurse who invited death in.

As the knife found its mark, blood spurted from the vein
and within minutes, he had left the land of the living,
doomed to become another who walked the corridors
in search of release, of finding the light to save his soul.

She left him there and turned to the doorway, satisfied
for the moment, another helpless feeling of discontent
vanquished, a mortal enemy slain before he could inflict
the hurt she had felt so many times, for so many years.

They walk at night in the pitch black, searching still.
They cannot harm her anymore, she is free - until
the next time, when her mind plays the sweet song
of the doomed, who pass her by in the darkness.

Countrymom
5/15/10












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