A single candle doth now shine
Within a darkened hall,
Smoke arising from the spine
Of a flame so small.
Eerie is the corridor
In which now I stand;
I know not what lies in store;
Shaking is my hand.
So haunting, cold and tenebrous
This hallway is at night,
So ghastly, grim, mysterious—
In the candle's light.
On I walk, my movement slow,
With caution and with care,
Fearful of what lies beyond
The small, flickering flare.
In the hall no sound is heard,
Save that of my breath—
And the beating of my heart;
The silence is of death.
Round I look at the stone walls
Of melancholy gray.
Up not I gaze, afraid to fall,
And in turn lose my way.
Darker soon the hallway grows
With every step I take.
I dread that something hungry follows,
Hiding in my wake.
Shadows dance around my form,
Condensing in my sight,
Chilling me where I am warm,
And swallowing the light.
Blackness there is only now,
Its presence so unkind,
Its voice a soft, compelling sound
That echoes in my mind.
Terror floods my heart and eyes;
My frame trembles with fear.
Agonizing are my cries,
So perfect and clear.
A cold arm wraps around my waist,
A pale hand strokes my hair.
The owner wonders how I taste,
His eyes a crimson glare.
I cry out and my blood he drains
Until I am no more,
Until all that remains
Is the candle on the floor.
