A room

The dying light of the candle,
dancing lazily lits the shabby room,
and her thoughts flying away,
are caught in the bloody webs of those who come from doom,
yet she tries hard to put herself together,
to convince herself it is just an illusion,
to alleviate what somehow has surfaced,
and she wondered "is this fate?".
Another sip of red as she stared at the walls,
shadows cast upon them,
becknoning to come with them...
A dim shabby room,
silent witness of her far-fetched dillusional state,
yet it all seems real for her,
her fears within blooming recklessly,
and in a moment she is just unquestioning,
her mind giving in, her fears in a field of vermin.
Tears moistured her worn out face,
as she clutched her hands as if to pray,
but what is there to ask for?,
if she and her own demons are in war.
In her own macabre scenario she is a victim,
and her walls are closing in,
while dark torments are nestling,
darkened beings gather not to vanish her sins,
but to submerge her in her deepest nightmare sea.

RQ
MOscow
14/4/40 10am