The House
The gate slams,
the wind sceams
The porch groans,
though there isnt a person in sight
The cracked windows stare,
at the passing people
The shingles rattle,
with the passing wind,
as the house sits alone,
on the dark abandoned street
No one dares to pass,
in fear of not returning,
and in fear of the whispers,
and of the dark light in the wiindow
The light that dissapears,
when looked at to closley
The house wards off,
every living soul,
and reels in the dead
the wind sceams
The porch groans,
though there isnt a person in sight
The cracked windows stare,
at the passing people
The shingles rattle,
with the passing wind,
as the house sits alone,
on the dark abandoned street
No one dares to pass,
in fear of not returning,
and in fear of the whispers,
and of the dark light in the wiindow
The light that dissapears,
when looked at to closley
The house wards off,
every living soul,
and reels in the dead