106. Crimson Corridors


Deep inside there is a need,

To the very soul, to feed.

In echoed voices in the head,

A calling that does heed,

A relentless urge to bleed.

Crimson halls and corridors,

Endless rows of clos’ed doors.

All lead to the same end.

Self-defeating little whores,

Bleeding out scarlet abhors.

Beyond each door there lies,

A flaming heart which cries,

For unmerciless repent.

Until the vile river dries,

And the corridors’ light dies.

K. Aldaya, 11/25/04

Picture: “Corridor to Hell” by William McLaughlin on Flickr; https://www.flickr.com/photos/billmclaugh/2965702055


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