A cellar is just that in the light of day:
A house of memories.
Mamaw's apricot jam.
Pink Floyd on vinyl.
The iridescence of nostalgia.
But a cellar by night is another thing:
A portrait of suffering to come.
Crimson hand prints streak a wall.
Shadowed voices call your name.
The duality of fear.
*Seed words are underlined, and were provided courtesy of S. Vines.
