that vast and empty room,
As tall as a door and as wide as three and as cold as a Viking’s tomb,
I stood against the farthest wall and I gazed at its gaping maw,
And I told myself that I had not seen the things I know I saw.
I told myself that I had not heard the things I know I heard,
That there had not been a strangled cry and a single shouted word,
I shook my head and I hugged myself and I said I did not care,
While the echoes of those phantom sounds still shivered in the air.
While the echoes of those phantom sounds still shivered in the air,
I shrank against that peeling wall and stammered through a prayer,
And then again I saw the scene that chilled me to the bone,
An endless loop of captured time in that empty room alone.
An endless loop of captured time in that empty room alone,
Two figures from another age, their lives to me unknown,
But I saw the fate of a ragged child in the chimney’s ancient gloom,
As a cruel master urged him on to a dark and awful doom.
There was nothing else but the fireplace in that vast and empty room,
As dark as death and as deep as time and as sure as the Fate’s own loom,
I fled the sights and I fled the sounds but the terror held me tight, And I know I’ll live it all again when I close my eyes at night.
BIO: Mark is a father of four from the North West who doesn't write as much as he'd like to. He's had work published on EDF, Fantastic Horror, EDP, Bewildering Stories and Millionstories.