Medieval Dungeons

• Sienna Domino , Grade 8
• Poetry
• 2016

Once you’re here there is no escape,
all that is left is to wait,
as they decide your inevitable fate.

Here in the dungeons you’ll wish you were dead,
your punishments are unknown,
but the floor are stained red.

As you sit in your cell,
all alone and afraid,
think about what you’ve done and the mess that you’ve made.

You’ll smell the bodies,
they rot while you sleep,
And you’ll dream of the life you wish you could keep.

I guess this is the end,
you’ll remember me I hope,
as I hang here by a noose made of rope.