The Asylum

hers was a rough and tumble entry into this world
bright lights / white walls / hard floors
floating masks hiding hideous faces
sepia corridors hiding endless locked doors
peep holes the only hopeful escape
a gloomy life left pointlessly futile
grimy rooms / padded walls / barred windows
fated by the mother before her in a bygone time

the asylum

© Dawn Whitehand 2016

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Death

darkness crept
a cold comforting blanket
enveloping my rotting body

warm tingling
extinguished by bitter chill
iciness soaking my veins

happy memories
brutally consumed by distance
hovering on the horizon

of oblivion

Pastel on handmade paper

Pastel on handmade paper

© Dawn Whitehand 2016