The smell of dead rats; The sound of the door slamming, Hands on my shoulder.
By Darla M Seelyabout a year ago in Poets
The creaking floorboards; Bats in the walls and doorways, The flickering lights.
Lingering spirits; The feeling of being watched; Unexplained cold spots
Dozens of orbs float In the darkness of the night. I hear vampires roar.
I tremble in fear As the mummified zombies Crisscross the blue skies.
Ghosts whisper my name. Zombies blue eyes stare at me. Wind whistles through cracks.
A creak and a moan; Witches cackle, ghosts boo; There's footsteps below.
A sudden darkness; Satan seemed to grasp my soul. Footsteps all around
Feeling lightheaded; Being touched by cold fingers, My hair stands on end.
Cobwebs, flying bats; Hearing a door slammng shut, Shadow-filled windows
The falling objects; Sounds of telephones ringing, Chains that are rattling
The growls and snarling; The whispers and muffled sounds; Loud distorted moans.
