A hotel room, tumbledown, gone to wrack and ruin.
On the table, the TV, friend of the loner,
As always,when time has warped,
once-upon-a –time echoes sing out to me
All around is mouldered, mildewed,
a home now for mice amongst dilapidation.
Lights flicker, even the power is fading;
I sense a ghost upon the dusty boards,
oppressive remnants of a life fill me with dread,
the atmosphere, first cloying, now chilling.
I slip away and leave the memories behind
of perhaps the tragic lives of those passed on,
who left us only embers of their past still burning,
smouldering still within such eeriness.
Another poem for Magpie Tales.