The Haunted House
As the staircases creak
The noise echoes and scares
Worried spirits may haunt and sneak
Hearing the drip drop
Afraid it's not the rain
That comes from all around
Feeling a chill in the air
It's not the weather outside
Is it spirits to bring fear
Then comes the night
Feel a hand's cold touch
There's no one in sight
The hand reaching out
It must be a demon
You begin to shout
Behind you eyes appear
It must be a Spector in the dark
You can see no body there
Consumed by fright
Run while screaming
From this house that night
Copyright © Matt Forshay | Year Posted 2015
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