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The Quiet Room

By a thread, I hang, as the knell tolls.
Moribund and cacophonous,
Surrounded by angels of death, I am.
They chortle and laugh at me, as
The tragic side show carries on.
I am amongst the persecuted,
Caught in a sinister grasp-
With the clapping of thunder,
My flailing limbs, caught in a vice.
Crouched in a corner, I have lost my battle with life.
My hair, frazzled, as that of a madman.
Blackened ice paves the floors through the doors of death.
Kicking and screaming, I find myself surrounded by
Yellowed walls, caught in a cyclone as
Veracity slips through my open palms.
None but a glimmer of light,
Hope without a prayer has been snuffed out as
I am a prisoner trapped within this iron vault.
The foul stench of urine permeates as the
Walls spin in an emotional typhoon.
Voices are loudening,
Blood-curdling, then muffled,
My chapped lips crack as I vociferate madness,
Bellowing and shouting
I cower in a corner then thrash about.
The knell continues to toll as thunder keeps clapping.
Lightening ignites my sordid spirit.
I am a hellion sailing the rapid river towards bedlam.
My fists pound upon the paint-stained concrete,
Black as fear, blood gushes from the ceiling.
Leaded paint chips cascade downward,
Hitting the ground in staccato rhythm.
The knell tolls “Abide with me” as
I lie outstretched upon the glacier-cold floor.
As I gasp for a breath of air
I count backwards.
A ghost-like silence has settled as dry snow would,
Blanketing the room-
I close my eyes and a wooden smile
Creeps up upon my face and as I listen with caution,
The people in my head begin to converse with me once more…

Claudia Krizay

poem by Claudia Krizay
Added by Poetry Lover
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