As I made my way through the darkness
I knew that this was not a foreign place
I have been here so many times before
The feeling of sadness had reached me once more
The smell so damp and humid
Like walking in the sewers of hell
I recognized the classical music ringing
Through the hollow corridors
As if bringing me to a lost memory, an unfocused photo
Blurred by the years wasted, so familiar before
I stood there alone, speechless in this place once more
Have I died? I asked
But I’m not in heaven or hell
This was interrupted by a ringing bell
Opened my eyes to find myself in my room
It was just a dream
Photo by <a href="/photographer/ronni44-38879">ronni kask</a> from <a href="https://freeimages.com/">FreeImages</a>
@Carlos Very profound poem. It is said that our dreams are sometimes an insight into our real lives. There are countless stories of the darkness taunting and haunting people through the channeling of our emotions, toying with and feeding off our feelings.
In this poem, you describe this dark place so vividly; “sewers of hell,” “damp and humid,” and with “hollow corridors.” Intense. And very compelling storyline! We enjoy reading and sharing your poems, Carlos, and look forward to more to come!
Thank you for being a valued 3-star member of Realistic Poetry International and for being a great part of the community!