PHANTOMS
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PHANTOMS
Is there anyone there I said,
Looking near the empty house door.
Which groaned with rusted hinges,
To reveal the dusty floor.
Small insects walked the sill.
Oblivious to frightened eyes,
As I stood perplexed and still.
If the house was new what was it like then?
Vibrant with colour and the voices of men.
I walked down the creepy cobwebbed hall,
Where once a family would walk and call.
The stillness made me cry,
My throat became sandpaper dry.
A strange noise above my head,
Is?there anyone there I said.
There was a sound of iron on stone,
With the clatter of decayed bones.
The temperature became quite fresh,
Icy fingers embraced my flesh.
I scampered from the house face white,
Creepy whispers flooded into the night.
Was this a haunted house? I did not know,
I studied the brickwork hidden low.
Until a moan escaped into the sky,
Vanishing with ghostly cries.
The night began to slowly creep,
People safe tucked up asleep.
Haunted house lay awake in the breeze,
Embraced with finger trees.
I left my place shivering cold,
Where eyes followed me silver gold.
Do not come back or you will wish you weren't born,
Echoes followed enveloping golden corn.
I ran afraid never to return,
Leaving the house and the eyes that burn.
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