A horror poem |
Chairs creaked Stairs moaned The breeze rustled the dead leaves The stars twinkled above the cold night Nothing alive was anywhere Nothing in that house was what it seemed You had been there before You saw what happened When the dolls came to life When the ghosts fought back A house where everything wants to kill you A boy searching for treasure He didn't know the houses secrets He didn't see the danger he was in Here in this house nothing makes it out alive Here, you are the prey How did the boy not know? How did the boy not see, Red blood dripping down the walls Red blood coating the floor It was everywhere It was what held the old house together His eyes wandered to the old porcelain doll His hands grabbed her She bared her sharp pointed teeth She bit his hand off Screams echoed off the walls Screams from the little boy Grinning. The doll was grinning Grinning at the thought that she had hurt the boy Hurt the boy in such a way, Hurt the boy with such violence, That he would never come back That day a little boy lost his hand And a house came alive once again And terrorized the neighborhood for years to come |