THE COLLECTOR
by K.Z. Morano
The pregnant woman viewed the dolls on the shelf.
Boys and girls resplendent in their different ethnic costumes… each masterfully crafted piece her treasure and her torment.
They sat in the dimness, haunting her with their glassy stare and the malevolent twinkling of their button eyes.
Sometimes, the bedroom seemed to fill with their phantasmal screams.
Once, she knew each and every one of them… understood the flutter of their tiny hearts better than her own pulse.
Not too long ago, they were housed inside her womb.
A few months later, a new doll joined her siblings on the shelf.
http://www.amazon.com/100-Nightmares-K-Z-Morano-ebook/dp/B00JVRJNG0
I sat so merry in my abode
Loving hands around me
I dreamt of such glorious days
One day i would see
I remember the day I left
My room
I closed the door behind me
One quick look again
Then walked away
The room which would always remind me
The glorious days I had dreamt
I did merrily spent
How little did I then know
Life turns on a dime
My room is now not as it was
When I closed the door
Behind me
My room now is a prison
But not how one would invision
It is one of sorrow and grief
Sadness burns into the bare walls
I catch my breath
And weep
Why did thou'st doth betray?
The room which once embraced me
I ask with riddled heart
Jagged and torn
Which wicked riddles have I thus sought?
I sit still
I am now my room
No dreams as once before
I age before my open door
In my room long ago
I sat merrily in my loving abode
Loving hands did hold me
All gone
My room and myself
Now one
Two thrust to be together
Forever
Alone