The Haunted House
The house on the hill stood forsaken by time.
The gutters were hanging and covered in grime.
The windows were warped and the siding was peeling,
And spider webs spanned from the floor to the ceiling
The moon overhead had now reached its full height.
It was only a crescent and scarcely gave light.
As my heart quickened, I rose from my chair
For this was the hour when the ‘others’ appear.
When walls wear thin between this and the next,
And ghosts can cross over with eerie effects.
The room became cold as so often it would,
And I wanted to hide but then before I could
A spectral window appeared from the gloom
And soon it enveloped the entire room.
Through it was a vision that ransomed my breath:
A young girl in her bed lying quiet as death.
“Why are you here?” I yelled with surprise
To which she arose and looked deep in my eyes.
Through the veil that divided I thought she looked scared,
But she said nothing and just sat and stared.
Breaking the silence I repeated my query
To which she erupted in violent fury.
She told me to leave, that this wasn’t my place
With an anger and fear that contorted her face.
I reached out to calm her, from my own habit mostly,
But realized with panic that my own arm was ghostly.
Ethereal body, I was spectral and wrong.
She was right; I was the one who didn’t belong.
For all of my wisdom, I had to admit
Dying wasn’t something I thought I’d forget.
But I was the ghoul that was lost out of time.
I looked at the moon as it slipped from its prime.
The girl whispered something I couldn’t hear what,
But the window was fading, my time was soon up.
And as it shut closed like each night it does
I forgot everything and became who I was.
8.21.18
Sponsor- Dear Heart
Contest- The Haunted House
Copyright © Jesse Rowe | Year Posted 2018
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