The House
The white shades pulled to half mast,
like sleepy eyes…
Peeking
Rain from the gutters rushing fast,
Seems to be…
Weeping
Doors locked, none shall pass,
All your secrets…
Keeping
A revelation at last,
buried bones that were…
Sleeping
A light flickers on, a gasp,
Starts your heart…
Beating
The souls you've amassed,
ghosts through rooms…
Creeping
Copyright © Crystol Woods | Year Posted 2025
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