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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1996788
A poem about a haunted old manor house.
If walls could talk what stories would they tell?
What whispered words and half remembered dreams would they whisper in the night?
Lullabies sung softly in the night,
As rain beats a drum beat on dark tiled roofs,
And lightning dances in the dark
And thunder roars in the dead of night.
Echoing laughter fills halls and rooms long since dark,
Where no laughter has been in many long years.

Spirits waltz still in an opulent ballroom,
Dressed for a Christmastime ball.
Around and around they whirl across the floor,
As Old Man Winter storms outside bringing cold and snow.
Firelight dances across the floor as phantom music soars to the high vaulted celling.
The smell of Christmas pies and cakes, long since gone, rise to fill the air.
A phantom orchestra plays a phantom tune,
All on a haunted winter's eve.

Voices whisper in the air, whispering in the night.
Moans and wails ring through the corridors of carpet and wood.
Ancient arches and shattered glass speak
Of memories good and bad.
Moans and wails echo through the empty corridors,
Bringing dark memories to those who dare trespass.
Tales of death and torment lay untold, hidden within walls and windows.
Tragic lives lived and lost to madness and sorrow.

If walls could talk what stories would they tell?
Stories of madness and grief, of sorrow and regret,
Which linger on in this house of shadows.
If walls could talk would they speak of hushed plots and moans in the night?
Manic laughed reach to the high of the ancient widow's peak
Where sobs and wails of grief are carried upon the winter wind.
Music carries through the halls as laughter fills the air,
From ballroom orchestra to residents ,long since gone, practice in the parlor.

In this house of shadows , the past remains as ghosts linger in their former home.
Mystery remains in the stately manor house at the end of the long lane.
Horror and death have touched the house throughout it's long and storied past.
Does evil linger in the manor house at the end of the long lane?
Do murder and madness still remain within it's stately corridors and rooms?
Perhaps they do linger within the walls of the manor house
As it looms tall over the rest of the houses,
Surrounded by centennial trees and an ancient gate.

Would you dare to spend a night in this house of shadows
Where the ghosts of residents long past still remain?
Would you dare to spend a night in the stately manor house at the end of the long lane?
There are mysteries to be solved in the manor house
And whose answers lie in the shadows of the house.
They lie in the whispered words and half-remembered dreams.
They lie in lullabies sung in the night
And they lie in the echoes of manic laughter that remain.

Spend a night in the manor house at the end of the long lane.
Listen to the stories that fill the walls and windows of this house of shadows
With it's macabre and manic history and tales of old.
With the wind whipping and wailing through the cold corridors and empty rooms
Like a banshee crying in the dead of night.
A haunted place full of superstition and fear.
Mysteries abound in the manor house at the end of the long lane
Because if you listen , the walls will talk and their stories they will tell.
© Copyright 2014 Detective (frigid at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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