The lonely old shack,
almost hidden from view.
Shrubs and trees obscuring the sight,
pathway overgrown with weeds
where flowers once grew.
In one window candlelight
flickers low, barely visible.
The lone resident sits and scribbles
his final message.
Under the floorboards the smell of decay.
The rotting corpses won't let him forget.
They bang and scratch every hour of the day
and in the night,
they pull his strings like a marionette.
Making him sweat, running from room to room,
making him feel the very same doom
that they felt when he led them to the tomb.
In the walls the screeching starts,
it pierces ears and could stop hearts.
Invisible eyes watch every step he takes.
Never let him forget their fates.
The thud of a heartbeat...
Thud
Sounds like the hammering of a nail into a coffin,
but they had no coffin lids to hide them.
Just dirt over dead eyes.
The lonely old shack,
so many horrors it's seen.
The candle flickers out
As the lone living resident gasps out
his final death scream.
Thanks for reading
