Under the Cellar Door

I begged and begged    
under the cellar door, I woke there on the staircase,      
pounding, beating; thrashing at the entrance,      
the pounding and hopeful fists was endless      
begging to the breath on the other side,      
he would not release me, energy spent,    
I was a child, what did I do to deserve this,      
     
I was begging    
under the cellar door, there were serpents,    
I heard and saw them, they were my fears      
dressed as atonement covering the pit below the steps      
slithering as solidity that couldn’t be broken      
as the screams were surrounding,    
they did not come for me – they waited,    
     
I begged and I begged    
the gods and demons waited patiently under the cellar door      
while the walls were closing in, the floor was breathing      
up to me and getting closer, I could go nowhere,      
what were they doing, I wondered and I watched the serpents,      
their skin was crimson coagulated gel  
disguised fingers as entwined writhing, suffocation, and death,      
     
I begged them to stop,      
each step would slide above me and disappear      
under the vaulted entrance, my feet were pointed      
up as I lay there, staring at red snakes on the ceiling,      
the shadow of the window was getting dim      
with no certainty but death, there was no way out,    
there was inspiration nowhere, no heroes to be found,    
        
I was begging, bleeding from my heart    
everything sped forward; I lay in wait within the whimpers,      
the screams were gone by then, and everything was numb      
except the air that touched me, and the fear breathing    
the floor that was moving towards me,  crawling,      
yet there was pain, a broken heart bleeding out      
yearning to know why it was happening.      
     
Exhaustion and shallow breath,    
my heart was burning, stillness; my fight spent    
as the gods and devils dressed in crimson gelatinousness      
came forth with the atonement, they captured me      
in weakness, crawling on a faceless expression,      
and then they entered my mouth, under the cellar door,    
there were bones cracking, gagging, and the lament of a last breath.      
     
     
     
Author's Note: I felt an obligation to explain this piece.  I am not the writer that fits this caliber of darkness, but there are instances in my life that will not escape me.  This story is not a made from scratch detailed sort of thing but inspired by a dream I had when I was seven years old and one of the most horrific and realistic experiences I’ve ever felt as far as dreams go.  Very few dreams such as this come along in a lifetime, for me anyway; I’ve only had a few and this was certainly one of them where I woke up panicking and screaming.  I had always wanted to write it out and tell someone.  I have it written out in complete story lines, but I decided to share it dressed as a poem. And so I hope I wrote it for at least a few here to enjoy the terror of it.