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The Dark Room

Poetry By: Ashleigh Butcher

I suppose, in a way, we are all descending our own stairs to the dark room...call it judgment day, if you like. I also suppose its also true that 'death hath no dominion'...because, at the end of the day, it's all up to us.

Submitted:Sep 9, 2008    Reads: 135    Comments: 1    Likes: 0   

The Dark Room

They entered the dark room

In silence;

Unaware of each other,

Yet through the same door.

Their written book, epitaph,

Gripped in one hand,

And clamped to the hard

stony floor.

Around them: the darkened


Laced with remains of

Cadaverous worth.

The portal between

Two opposing dimensions

With the judgement on either the death,

Or rebirth.

Those with light souls

Discovered their feet-

Like steps at infancy-

Below their shape.

And moved, with discovery,

Into the tunnel:

The window of morality

Through which they'd escape.

But, those who had not


Those who'd been stripped

of fabric ideals-

Their dwindling existence dissolved

Into the walls,

Forced to face demons

The light once concealed.

As we, in ourselves, descend our

Own stairs-

Albeit with props, and methods

To console-

Consider, when symbols can't stray


That all you truly have,

Is your soul.

Ashleigh Butcher


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