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Bewildered (A new dark poem)
My darkest quest
The demonic cell of Gore
Took hold the fear
And never came before.
Oh raisin bloodstone
Found upon the shore
Take hold my fear
In demonic cell of Gore
But ne’er the feeling gone
When closed the door
Or eyes tight shut
To out, the cell of Gore
Oh, damned I feel
Whilst prone upon this floor
My bones are cold within
This dampened cell of Gore
And hours pass too slowly
And my skin is truly sore
Where I scraped in desperation
Through this prison cell of Gore
Let the worms make haste to take me,
As I lie amongst the debris
And the folk who clearly hate me
Never turn their heads toward thee.
And I close my eyes forever,
In this demonic cell of Gore
Just these words alone forsake me,
To dwell beyond the door
© 2006 Philip G. Bell
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