Alchemisland

My mind is full of scorpions, panic, manic

Haunted house, chains rattle in the attic 

Something bounding across the landing

The hunched static of a once-hangman

Swinging, old gallows, taut rope sound near the top stair

Tight holding the bannister, staring up into the dark area

Dark arias reaching tenants’ ears, been a tenant years

Heard nothing, all of you need your ears cleaned of green wax

Clanking 

Pilums which never miss, my marble pillars are magnificent