What world is this I seem to have stumbled upon?
Ghostly encounters in the hours before dawn.
Each sleepless night I wait in the still silent gloom,
Mists creeping in to this most haunted room.
Their voices too quiet for words to be clear.
These cold wafts of air seem alive when they near.
Is it this home, a place they need to be?
Or can it be simply that they’re haunting me?