A horror story.
Once upon a time
There was a house of mine
In the city New-York
Where dangers lurked.
Anybody why didn’t know
But a corpses row
Was drawn in the cellar
Maybe there lived a killer?
Who has many people killed
And buried them then in the field.
Their souls came then to my home
I couldn’t live there any more
Cause much cold fear
They breathed into the air
I’m tired of that
I have my poor dog’s dead
And I’m ‘lone in house
With my little mouse,
Which looks now very bad
And it seems to get quite dead.
Then I’ll stay with ghosts
With their spirits cursed
So I’m to leave the damned house
And I will take my mouse
Or I’ll be killed
Without help or somehow shield.
That was a real story
That’s house is NY’s territory.
It’s so nasty and loathsome
Nobody would there ever come.
A horror story
© Copyright: Сергей Идиотов, 2008
Свидетельство о публикации №108090103369
Свидетельство о публикации №108090103369
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