#1
Hear the dripping from the eaves
land on the compost,
the eternal home of dead things
too unsavoury to bear thoughts of.
This is your home,
my flaw in your argument,
the midnight wind whipping sand at your eyes.
You are below me, just how you always preferred,
to see my colours run against the backdrop
of a ceiling illuminated by a multi-bulb light
with three of them out.
This is where we go
when we reach the deep within.

Feel the smell of rot and damp
infect your head with darkness;
wear it like an anorak of mould.
Let it enshroud you,
let it take you where I took you,
that forgettable cottage on the coast
by the edge of the cliff,
where the waves crashed and destroyed
and created sand where there was rock.
That is what happens
when we reach the deep within.

Touch the sounds of static
as the radiation tingles your fingertips.
Move to the arrhythmic ticking
of your grandfather’s pocket watch
as the clockwork succumbs to time ironic.
Let his hand rest on your shoulder
as a child who never exactly knew the meaning.
Now, sense the tingling up your spine
when the memories filter through the base rock
and simmer slowly on the surface.
This is how it feels
to reach the deep within.

Smell the lingering sights of your nightmare
as the cold sweat tickles your brow
and snakes down your pale cheeks.
The always-out-of-sight-but-within-earshot monster
stalking you from the tree line.
Snatch a glance at steely eyes
and sharp claws
and napalm jaws
and run! Dear God, run!
Find home, you sweet thing, find home.
The panic stops your heart
and you collapse in a puddle of your own fear.

Your dead hand reaches from the earth and grasps mine.
It is freezing and dry.
You drag me down to your hell
and destroy my body.
This darkness suffocates my lungs
and grinds my eyeballs to dust.
Thank you, my love,
to help me find the deep within.
#2
great:
Move to the arrhythmic ticking
of your grandfather’s pocket watch
as the clockwork succumbs to time ironic.
and
The always-out-of-sight-but-within-earshot monster
stalking you from the tree line.

Yikes, this is some straight up creepy stuff brudda. The last stanza especially. Way to bring it all home after treating the reader to fantastic imagery.

It is a bit hard to read at times and gets a tad clunky but other than that a solid piece.

C4C?
https://www.ultimate-guitar.com/forum/showthread.php?t=1448495