Memory

A doorway wide open with fresh air flowing in,
Leaves me tempted to wander into a foreign land.
An icy, unyielding ground felt beneath,
As bare skin of feet ventures in.
A lightless room, quiet and still,
Random creaks of setting heard slightly within.
Further in, to see, to find something uncertain,
What walls contain is being sought out blindly.
Cool, crisp air in and out of the lungs,
Tasting uneasiness within the air itself.
Down, down to a concealed forsaken space,
Lurking there a shadow of a haunted long-ago.
Surrounded by silhouettes of fear and vexation,
They linger like the ghost of one's dreaded past.
Images flood the mind of conflict and despair,
Drowning once more into the dark abyss, of memory.

-Khushi Kaul