The Secret Door

Behind the abandoned historic bakery shop, up the staircase, through hidden passages

Shadows fall upon the shambled ashen walls, collapsing, encased by voices of hate

Extra ordinary sounds, creeping through the blackened mold ceiling cracks

Where lightening strikes at midnight, the attic door, opens wide, and what you see, you won't believe

To feed the mouths of blood filled avengers, dripping everywhere, cremating your spine, with its attack

You scream, while hollow eyes swallow you, phantom candles flame, the wretched smell of death remains

Now, buried behind the secret door, skeleton corpses, of the baker's victims, no longer scents of cinnamon

Where, once you entered, led by fragrant fresh made breads, pies, cakes, and pastries

Taking their souls to his engage, where he melted you in giant cast iron ovens grates

Where hell fire rises, the yeast of dough explodes, the icing curdles of bright red blood, sin so grim

The secret door, the vanishing people, knives sharpened blade, sliced just right, for the trims in blender

A baker's maddening acts, indulging in tragedies, revengeful torture, from the dreadful death of his mother