Brought here by drifting winds, those sounds of
Hollowed tears burning with feelings of negligence,
And the silk brush of scurrying fingers as they
Patter along my face as I sleep in comfort, the harsh whispers
Of what once had been and the wooden box of figures, dolls,
(Mommy tells me they are irrelevant, but they have eyes which watch),
The oppression of terrorising faces around the room and
Death’s odour, the pools running down my face, and the chanting of
Voices, those convulsive cries of unfortunates- but all in vain. 
The intertwining of reckless howling, distraught winds which amble around
The house, the pale globule of light hangs in the sky like an incandescent
Flashlight storming through the darkness. Fiendish chattering
Around clasping my thoughts (What have they done) the horrific mausoleum stands before me,
The burning evil now resounds in their eyes, representing their intentions towards me,
Their eyes inflate like shimmering blue ripples in the water, coaxing me in. A red gash across
The embroidered curtain strains into the light, faces peering through
Gently calling my name, a wave of antagonism, anxiety, overpowering. (Has it ended yet?)
A smothering gush of disused, mould infiltrated air, a cracked face.
China Doll? Cognate, vigilant eyes burn through mine like glistening embers of a fire,
Staring at me with plea, a deep sorrow gnawing through the empty inhuman shell
Floating before me.
 
Their precious sanctuary, a destiny they must fulfil by roaming the tedious
Walls of the building. They wander in a room filled profoundly with piles of minute dresses
The want me for themselves, rogue hands tousle in a frenzy, they chant their fantastically
Arms outstretched implying a fumbling and screaming gesture of
Love. So I scream. What else. Nothing I can do. A pain, it throbs. Everything sounds wrong.
My taste is bitter; a rigid red light tampers across my vision…
And I am gone.