Art by Joshua Hoffine
Simple pleasures, so often, get overlooked by the diamond glare,
But she continues her stroll, through her lavish halls
Of pricelessness, crowding the walls casting long shadows,
As a solemn hush, occupies the burgundy canvas, of this mausoleum
Articulately crafted and engineered, to show off her devine prosperity,
Yet, she wonders alone, barely gazing, at any of her collectables,
Strolling by, her worldly posessions of statues and paintings
Frivolously acquired, filling blank spaces in her oversized mansion,
Standing separately, removed, from oppressive dwellings
To flourish, in a hollow plot, so she can be the polished,
Marinating in grand halls, surrounded by the squander
Thickly dressing, the outstretched corridors, of her maze,
Silence creaks, then echoes down, throughout lifelessness
As she fans herself, perched atop her swanky peak,
Untouched by the erosion, flooding lives, beyond her gates,
Cries, barely reaches the lock, snug and tightly clamped
So that she can revel, in the abounding untouchables,
But there, in the still, erie absence of sound, the softest whisper
Huddled up next to her, and gave a deep fright
That resonated through her entire being, and caused her, to collapse,
She immediately sprang up, hysterically searched
For the voice, that put her wellness into paralysis
As she tried to shake away, the voice’s prolonged echo,
Waiting, for it to settle, along with her rapid thumping,
And just as some alleviation dawned, a furious clanking
At her gates, had once again, awoken her paranoia,
Running to the window, another quiver down her spine
As the voice, grabs, her attention from her hall of valuables,
Following the reverberating taunt, that led her to an unknown room,
One she never stepped in, yet tucked into the far corner,
Cautiously walked, into an orange haze and simple gallery,
Nothing but walls and two pieces of modest furniture,
So uninviting, she thought as she sat, almost instinctively,
The clanking and rattling at her weakening gates, intensified,
Startling her, sinking further into the chair, finding it difficult to breathe,
The voice, again spoke, shattering her sacred hush,
“We rise, as you fall” continued to be the repeating provocation,
And the voice, as abruptly as it appeared, it vanished,
To the sudden thud, coming from beneath, the surface,
Her gaze froze, upon that very thudding spot
And slowly getting to her feet, moving closer to the knock,
Growing louder, stronger, cracking the stone tile
With pieces chipping away, almost as if, it was pulsating,
And finally breaking open, with a stampede of filthy, grubby hands
Reaching for her, grasping, and pulling her into the void,
She was gone, letting the entire mansion, rapidly tarnish,
All that’s left, is the wind, wrestling within the cold, of this dwelling.
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