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Justine’s shackles tighten and strain,

Frankenstein will peruse her remains.

Jekyll coos from afar like a viper,

Whilst de Quincey? He elevates higher and higher.

 

The Count takes one lingering bite of her throat,

Carmilla joins in, to relish and gloat.

Dorian remains engrossed in his painting,

Mrs de Winter finds it most entertaining.

 

Rochester’s attic will hold her, secured,

The Yellow Wallpaper will keep her enthralled.

Byron himself shall keep her amused,

With tales of the confused, accused and abused.

 

And this is where we all shall remain,

Ghosts, haunts, a disease of the brain.

A fiendishly gory masquerade ball,

The Bloody Chamber: Open to all.

 


As you can (hopefully) tell, this was my attempt at a amalgamation of Gothic texts, such as Carmilla, Jane Eyre and Frankenstein.

I’m pretty pleased with how this turned out, considering how horrifically awkward some of the characters’ names were to fit into the poem!

 

Copyright © 2016 Rebecca Sherratt

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