The cracks on the walls crawl higher and wider
The cobwebs are thick filled with long deceased spiders
In the hallways the dust dances in the moonlight
It’s so quiet you can hear when the crow takes it’s flight
The floorboards release such a chilling moan
They whisper the things that nothing should know
This house holds secrets nobody could keep
The terrifying truth runs cold and deep
She roams in the garden with death on her hands
The roses turn black as she moves through the land
If you see her it’s already too late to turn back
You never should have come here this house is her trap
When the fog rolls in and covers the land
She waits in the shadows for a wayward man
A guest from out of town hits a bump in the road
He is far from home and will seek use of a phone
But what lies ahead will not offer relief
Soon he will be dead…very dead indeed

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This Poems Story

A ghost story of the most disturbing kind.