The Vault

A hound howls in screeching pain,

"Agonized he is" I say,

And cloth myself in a blanket,

My blood in turbulent state.

The chandelier on roof sways, 

The clock pendulum swings and ticks,

And wind whispers sounds of suffering

In torrential rain.

The bed creaks, when I sit

And that beast howls again.

It is two by the clock,

And I follow the sound to vault.

My tormented mind says "DON'T GO",

But I don't know my mind,

It is lost in this house,

Concealed in peace-less solitude.

My eyes are dark and tired

And painful howling is persistent 

My throbbing heart says "DON'T GO",

But my heart is already dead.

The door of vault squeaks,

And I step down in silence,

Stillness and cold,

But the pauseless howling.

It smells of disgusting decay, 

A bloody rotten meat from hell,

Still it howls with vestige of life

Terrible! Horrific, sorrow descend.

My wounded senses say "DON'T GO",

Yet empathy overpowers suffering senses.

My eyes are teary and ears turn warm,

"He is me, the pathetic animal" I say.

His eyes are hollow, mind departed,

Heart pounding to squeeze life, 

Senses, they are numbed in agony,

And he is waiting to die.

"KILL HIM" someone whispers in my ear,

And I possessed, tear it with fingers,

Crush its skull, break its bones,

Till the howl turns into a dying moan.