Knock. Knock. A creaking noise; the door is open, please come in.
Who is there? It’s quiet in the void and no reply comes from within.
Just take a step. Another one. Don’t be afraid; you are expected.
Your work in here has just begun; your soul and house are now connected.
Du-dun. Du-dun. You hear from the walls, as if the souls of ones who lived there
Still linger hidden in the halls, that once have served the owners fair.
There is a heart somewhere, hidden; from sights of humans who can’t see
The mystery behind unwritten, unspoken words; they lead to the key.
The key to crimes that have been committed, unsolved by everyone, but you
Are chosen by the wicked to help evaluate the truth.
So be prepared to face the future; forget the sanity and all regrets,
As light is shone upon the damned, you watch their darkened silhouettes.
The house
© Copyright: Дитрих Фрэй, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111111209341
Свидетельство о публикации №111111209341
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