A tap at the pane, a scratch at the door -
awaking the brain to think, therefore;
a squeak at the attic, a howl of a hound,
as something dramatic is going around.
A mumble of a portrait nailed to the wall -
a man dread and bloated is about to fall;
I see, ‘tis Henry the Seventh by face,
that’s why he’s angry of a public disgrace.
The candles keep burning, as fire alert -
give shadows a warning in fire’s blue spurt.
The room looks unusual, mysterious view,
abandoned illusions, and hopes are so few.
Ridiculous, boring place to make me upset -
to plunge into story with fear, and sweat;
that happens inside when I closed the door
while drinking tonight with Lovecraft & Poe.
15.12.2020г.
Ridiculous story
© Copyright: Серж Северодвинский, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120121708213
Свидетельство о публикации №120121708213
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