MIDNIGHT V
by: Haresh Daswani

As the moon reached its peak,
I, a guest at an abode of kings,
A mansion tested by ages,
Of ancestors and their successors...
Yet isolated, and a story to tell,
Tears fall from relatives of blood,
Yet hair raises from guests of honor...
I stumbled upon when all went to dream,
A room between mine and the stairs...
'twas quiet in the morning,
but now I hear mourns,
A cry from a child, of two, perhaps...
The empty rocking chair, swayed,
And weight seemed to marked the cushion...
The room gets chilly, the breeze from the window...
Which closed itself, and so did the door...
The dark blue hue surrounds this dear child's room...
Her dolls of joy in the left, now sobbing...
The odor of the dead now getting stronger...
She appears right before me,
In her bed, crying, in solitary moan...
It gets louder, and her breath grows deeper...
As she decomposes right before my eyes...
'till what was left was her skull, still moaning...
In pain of the past, her memory replayed...
Her sockets stare at me, in pity of herself,
Asking me what happened, I stood in disbelief...
I wanted to leave, but she won't let me...
Thus angered her...
Blasphemy rushed from her mouth so foul...
I wonder in darkness if what have I done,
The winds grow chiller, her moans louder,
As I was alone, my silent scream with me...