The Last Horror Poem Poem by Nick Hilton

Dark rooms,
Lit only with the dripping wax,
From used candles,
Long ago illuminating,
Lovers in there company,
Meals solitary and crude,
Their stains still splashed upon the floor,
Not pleasant stairs,
But ones that saw the lovers, married fight,
And bones from meals chucked upon,
Dead floorboards,
That saw the lovers slip powder into cocoa,
And single human souls drifting away,
Hard bedstead,
That saw the lovers pass away in sleep,
And a solo dyeing soul depart.