The Sanatorium On The Hill

Abandoned Waverly Hills Sanatorium (Roadkill Society Prompt)

Through the woods the sun seems lower.
Shadows grow longer, and deeper,
while solar rays blast past trees,
with no leaves.

The road to the hill top winds.
Curving like a snake waiting to consume,
amongst the darkening trees,
with no leaves.

The broken road explodes clear,
into a parking lot of shattered rock,
where the sanatorium’s frame,
still leans.

Crows swoop low to land on top.
They caw and mock, the souls below,
who walk before the brick lair,
with ghosts unseen.

The building screams in the voice,
of the insane and the dying young.
Diseased lungs rasping thick,
as the sun weeps.

Wandering the hospital halls.
Rooms of healing turned torment,
quietly wait, while spectral orbs,
float out of sight.

Shadows lurking in the mind’s eye,
disappear in flash light’s glow.
A child’s ball rolls along the floor,
from hands now bone.

The hair on the neck stands tall,
from watching eyes undead.
A whisper through demon fangs
“Get out of here!”

Sends terror down rusty stairs,
to burst into night time’s mist.
Chased by ghostly screams from those
who’ll never leave.

https://thewaverlyhillssanatorium.com/

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Bio: Chris Bunton is a writer, poet and blogger.

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