The House

It lay at the base of the mound,
Buried deep at the core of peoples minds,
Forgotten, like an old book flung in a musty attic,
From windows, broken like jagged teeth,
Black eye's gleamed from places unseen,
And as the sun sank casting it's last dying rays,
It lit up the name of this old house,
And I knew I must go in.

Nets fell down on my startled face,
My lungs filled with icey cold air ready for my scream,
Clawing at the nets, I opened my mouth,
The scream errupted, dying strait away.
With a gasp I ripped the nets,
Only to find cobwebs.

Broken bottles of beer,
Like beartraps stopping my every move.
Silence pressed in on me in all directions,
Ghost's appeared from a time gone by.
Over powed by the sence of time,
I stood, lost in a wave of memiores.

The stink of time and booze,
Rushed into my nose.
All thoughts leave my head except,
To get away from these ghost's of time.
I stumble and then run clear.