Summer’s rain and Autumn’s chill
A desperate house upon a hill
The song of wind played by the leaves
A ghostly sunset it perceives
Long, the nights slip on by
A desperate howl; a silent sigh
An unkept story forever told
A fading legacy worth naught but gold
Broken windows, unlocked doors
Concrete steps and jagged thorns
Rumors of what lurks inside
A place where horrid ghosts reside
Along the twisted, choking vine
A backwards clock, a broken chime
A hidden mailbox, a chipping name
An unruly yard, no one to tame
Spring’s crisp air and Summer’s sun
Through the forest, children run
Standing hidden, completely alone
A House of Stories, caged in stone.
© Copyright 2016 CursedHeart. All rights reserved.
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