Tightening grips

 

 vigour and fervour
 hands that clasp mine
 hold promises for a future
 
 Relaxed, I roam around
 waiting to be called back
 there is no sound…
 
 I come back to the cosy place
 an unfamiliar iron grip
 Rings alarms - it is too late
 
 I’m placed under house arrest
 a public speech, new promises there
 they want no voices from the past
 
 If you like palace grandeur 
 check the basements first
 muffled sounds in structures
 blindfolded, dying of thirst
 
 foundations laid on
 suppressed identities
 they build kingdoms
 in towns and cities
 
 Hands are doers
 Hands are driven 
 by gods and killers
 Humanity shrivelled… 

Poetics – Exploring Gothic as a Literary Genre (Step into the realm with me)

Reena’s Exploration Challenge #164