MicroHorror

I’ve seen a room in my mind’s eye
that looks like death personafied
rusted walls and instruments
like a scrapbook out of hell itself

dusted face and incruments
a project on whoever’s left

I’ve seen it wall so many times
you can’t help but look at it when madness chimes

I’ve wanted to chase every flicker of light
I saw but I stand broken at this padded wall.