literature

The Dark Beyond the Door

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KeironTonge's avatar
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Literature Text

I was deep, one night, in study. Over texts and tomes of yore.
Compiling ancient knowledge from an endless sea of lore.
When I heard, from shadow, moaning;
An incessant shallow droning,
Like the sound of demons groaning,
From the dark beyond the door.

Thinking it imagination I returned thus to my book.
My hands were cold and trembled as the door behind me shook.
I pray that all these thoughts are wrong,
Because they simply don't belong,
They'd be more fitting in a song
And not behind my study door. Though I dare not turn to look.

In the dark beyond the door a growing evil seems to dance
From out of stories come to maim me. The very thought seems to entrance.
With an ever singing madness,
Overpowered by the sadness
And the lurking monsters gladness
I begin to ponder at the chance.


Did my studies rouse an evil that my mind cannot explain?
Some unholy writhing terror the world was not meant to contain?
Ever louder at the door,
My accursed books lay on the floor
And I cannot take it any more!
I move to look, I can't refrain.

With the handle in my fingers I can almost feel it burning,
I cannot halt the gripping fear nor can I stop the ghastly yearning.
So in the dark within the hall
I hear no whisper nor footfall.
No charnel creature there to call.
I bolt the door and seal the lock. I can feel my stomach turning.

I start bringing order to the study, stacking book and scroll and page.
I pray the show is over and that the players have left the stage.
In the darkness through the glass
I hear the horrid creature pass.
I stumble back and touch the brass
Of the handle on the door. My fever dreams turn into rage.


As I struggle with the locks and bolts the creature strikes the glass.
I dare not turn my head to witness just what horror comes to pass.
Was it the fault of ancient lore?
Did I open up some door
That shall lay open evermore?
I hear the heavy footfalls like the writhing of some mass.

Moving ever nearer now. I shudder then I close my eyes up tight.
I dare not be exposed to such a grim and final sight.
I still struggle at the bolt.
I curse myself, I am a dolt,
And my own death shall be my fault.
I hear the lock click slowly open and I flee into the night.

I leave my fears behind. I'm In the dark beyond the door.
Now I hear my own footfalls as they beat heavy on the floor.
My life will never be the same
And thus to end the grisly game
I set my own home to the flame
To burn the monster and the memory. I shall regret this evermore.
I've been reading Poe lately. I wanted to write something he might write. I know I'm not as skilled but I hope you all enjoy.
© 2012 - 2024 KeironTonge
Comments3
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Invoking's avatar
Poe is by far my favorite poet ever. I absolutely love The Raven, and this here definitely does bring about that eerie feeling often invoked by Poes writings. I has a very creepy and mystic tone to it, and the syntax is pleasing and really adds to the mood. Very well written <3 :meow: