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Is this the life you longed for? Your house is in shambles—lonely and forlorn; your tale a macabre one, a sea of lingering emptiness. A musty smell wanders behind the creaking door-- imposing but not welcoming, the lock enforced to keep away the trespassers; guarded by Hecate, Cerberus, and flesh-eating hounds, spraying poisonous slobber, plugging minds with slumber. Food littered on the several decade-old dusty floors, dotted with clothes, toys, books, and innumerable plastic bags. Cobwebs scattered everywhere like an estranged mind. Murmurs heard from the caverns of ones long gone. You serve as a vassal with skeletons of those who have crossed the worldly line, found camaraderie with the long-hushed walls. On your bed is nestled a clothed corpse of your lover, covered with a blanket to ward off the cold that no longer affects her. At the foot of your bed lies a heap of bones of the unknown. Your burning eyes, sunken and cloudy, have the intensity of a bolide-- expressionless, nonchalant like a funeral pyre. Your thoughts wander around the dirty dungeons of your shackled mind; feelings pale, receded, frozen like the polar ice, never to thaw again. Your body is restless as if snakes are writhing along it. You have consumed water from the Lethe River of benightedness to immerse yourself in a state of complete oblivion. Is this the sleep you wished for? To have exited like a poisoned rat, blood foaming up at your nostrils, ears, and mouth; body charred like the interiors of a coal mine; as if you never existed, unheeded and unseen. You lie now never to rise again, never to feel the burgeoning pain that spurted out within you like molten lava. Your unvoiced scream is now one amongst the whispers of the otherworld. Sreelekha Chatterjee is a poet from New Delhi, India. Her poems have appeared in Madras Courier, Setu, Verse-Virtual, The Wise Owl, Ghudsavar Literary Magazine, Porch Literary Magazine, Orenaug Mountain Poetry Journal, Poetry Catalog, Creative Flight, Pena Literary Magazine, Everscribe, and in the anthologies--Light & Dark (Bitterleaf Books, UK), Personal Freedom (Orenaug Mountain Publishing, USA), and Christmas-Winter Anthology Volume 4 (Black Bough Poetry, Wales, UK), among others. Facebook: facebook.com/sreelekha.chatterjee.1/, X (formerly Twitter): @sreelekha001,Instagram @sreelekha2023, Bluesky: @sreelekha2024
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In shadows deep, where moonlight seldom gleams, A house of whispers, where the lost souls roam, Its timbers creak with long-forgotten dreams, And specters haunt each decaying room. The air is heavy, thick with sorrow's weight, A chill that numbs the heart and chills the bone, A house where time and life can't mitigate, The pain and fear in every ghostly moan. But 'midst the gloom, a beauty can be found, In spectral visions and the tales they tell, For haunted houses hold secrets profound, In every shadow, echoes of farewell. A dwelling of the past, a timeless muse, Where spirits linger, in eternal use. Lanson Wells is a librarian with the Cuyahoga County Public Library and the assistant editor of the Journal of the American Viola Society. He holds Bachelor and Master's degrees in music, a Master's degree in Library and Information Science, and a graduate certificate in online learning and teaching. He has had several musicology papers published and has self-published both a book of poetry and book of musicological research on KDP. He is a lifetime lover of horror movies and books and resides in Cleveland, Ohio with his wonderful wife and their beautiful Shetland Sheepdog. |
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