Yellow sky looks cold,
The wind is strong.
All the stories told
Won’t stay for long.
The horizon disappears
In the evening light.
The childhood fears
Come out in the night.
Old house on the hill
Reminder of the past.
Once a place for kill
Now it’s left to rust.
Now it’s home for ghosts
They scream and yell and plead,
They are gone and lost
You soul is what they need.
They have a bloody taste,
They feed on living spark.
Beware of the place
Don’t come there after dark.
Haunted house
© Copyright: Насти, 2005
Свидетельство о публикации №105042101120
Свидетельство о публикации №105042101120
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