The labyrinth of crimson nightmares,
A realm where shadows twisted in endless layers,
A maze of fear and haunting cries,
Beneath the blood-red skies.
Cold and bare walls of gravestones,
Emerged with a chilling stare,
Each corner revealed a twisted scene,
A realm of darkness where ghosts convened.
The air was made of mournful cries,
As spectres drifted and dimness flew,
In hallways of twisted elegance,
Eternal sorrow left its trace.
A crimson light, both faint and grim,
Gave the maze a spectral dim,
Figures danced in fleeting grace,
Their faces were hidden, lost in space.
In every niche, whispers resounded,
Secrets buried deep, unbound,
Tales of pain and endless dread,
Relics of the forsaken since dead.
Mirrors, cracked and darkly stained,
Reflected the fears that once remained,
Eyes stared back with hollow gaze,
Lost in the maze’s endless haze.
The scent of flowers, tinged with decay,
Lingered where nightmares plotted in dismay,
A silent scream, a phantom’s wail,
Guided the lost through fearsome trails.
A grand hall, yet fraught with disquiet,
Shadows loomed in eerie twilight,
A crimson alcove, dark and stark,
Where nightmares fed on every mark.
The labyrinth of crimson nightmares,
Whose walls stirred, twisted, and sighed,
Entrapping ghouls in endless strife,
In a realm where infinite death was rife.
Every turn a darker shade,
Every step, a deeper raid,
The labyrinth of crimson nightmares with its shifting maze,
Kept trapped in its cruel daze.
As the night elapsed, the darkness bound,
The labyrinth of crimson nightmares preyed on disquieted spirits,
Spectral laughter, ghastly moans,
Resonated through the darkness.
The dawn might have come, the maze might have shifted,
But the crimson curse would never lift,
In the heart of gloominess’s cruel seam,
The labyrinth of crimson nightmares remained a dream.
Each dawn revealed a graver fright,
In endless depths of endless nights,
Unfathomable in its design,
The maze consumed the light, malign.
Esther Elizabeth Racah
