In Crimson Screams

I wonder what a quiet mind,
full of light, would feel like;
and if my memories could grow
cold, or if you would turn hot,
outside of the whispers
in the shadows you have
only ever known as home.

Softly now, my darling.
Darkness has withered
the walls of this place,
and it is heavy and it is hanging,
always dripping like rain.

Now here we are,
inside the keeping, again.
I have made our bed between
my secrets and your dreams.
Pay no mind to the echoes at night;
these halls have been painted
in crimson screams.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

9 thoughts on “In Crimson Screams

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