The Cold House

The sun depart
and the moon proceed,
Reflected through the white silky curtain blew in the wind,

The night creatures screeches
with owls of cuckoo rested on tree branches,

and brushes against the window glass from outside,
pitch black with bright eyes
of a cat below the palm trees,

Sat on the old rugged grave,
with the sparks of lightening illuminated the environment,

Fearfully i quickly close the window
From inside the solitary confinement,

But accompanied with nothing but mannequins of ghastly appearance,
and antique items in the old fashion state,

The cold windy night expressed itself inside the lonely house of fright,
like an hollow forest with obscure presence,
and intense feel of ghastly subsidence,

This lifeless place
where no light seem to trace,
tangled with fear
and no company to share,

My weary eyes burn to resist sleep
afraid of the dark as it gives me the creeps.
All the empty rooms
only one remain with an open door,

I slowly enter but there is blood on the floor,
No dead bodies found
except footsteps traces the ground,

I follow the foot prints down
to the dark basement,
with rivers in my palms
and the heartbeats in my ears.

Slowly I walked down the dusty steps of fear
And saw a dreadful terror which still remain unclear,

Such intense feel of an horrific trance
and from behind the door slams,
Screaming, and screaming running all around,

These voices, and voices with the roof repel with cracks,
The window glasses shattered
all to pieces,

But swiftly through the front door
With a blow to the head,
I finally escaped that which seem to be something from the dead.

Fadrian Bartley is a poet from Kingston Jamaica. He has contributed his work to the R.F.D magazine, issue #173 and issue #175, 2018, also the horror zine magazine spring 2019. Fadrian is also a customer service representative, and front desk agent, who oftentime writes in his spare time at his window during the night. He can be reached on Facebook at: Thepoetryhotel

Find more by Fadrian Bartley in the Author Index.

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