by Angela C. Orlando
your house is still.
Haunting silence echoes through the hall.
You feel paranoid seclusion.
As if you are trapped in an ancient tomb.
You imagine being buried alive in a deep, lonely grave
You can't ignore the fear of the unknown.
What lurks beyond?
What monsters await?
Shadows loom so dark and dreary.
No hope lies here.
You are surrounded by suffocating emptiness.
You are gripped with breathless panic.
You search for a way out.
You won't ever find one.
You must succumb to the horrors.
Tears and screams won't help you now.
Let this darkest hour be your last.
But for people who are deaf-blind, every moment is after
Revised August, 2011