by Raymond Towers
Down, down, down the spiral staircase
creaky floorboards that lead to Hell.
Down, down, down into the depths
where goblins lurk and demons dwell.
You hear dark whispers that call your name
and disturb your sleep in the dead of night.
A silent presence that stalks behind you,
hollow footsteps in waning light.
A patient specter across the table,
yet when you look there's no one there.
The wicked laughter heard all around,
or is it only inside your head?
A foothold gained, you can't escape,
with the darkest ghouls you're hand in hand.
You laugh and scoff and turn your head,
but truth be told, you're already dead.
And down, down, down, you go.