Whispers of the abandoned house in the shadows of the midnight hour,
An old house stood, forlorn and sour,
Its windows wept with tales untold,
Of ghosts and spirits, grim and cold.
The wind whispered through broken panes,
A dirge of sorrow, haunting strains,
Cobwebs hanged like veils of grief,
In every corner, silent thief.
A rocking chair, it creaked alone,
Echoes of delight, long since flown,
In the attic, memories faded,
Among the dust, in time, decayed.
The walls were stained with tears of years,
Each room was a tomb of hidden fears,
The floors creaked under unseen feet,
Where past and present ghosts did meet.
A portrait hung, eyes full of woe,
A family lost to time’s cruel flow,
Their whispers filled the empty halls,
Mourning voices, distant calls.
No light can have pierced this house of night,
Where shadows reigned in endless fright,
The garden’s overgrown with weeds,
A silent witness to dark deeds.
The moon cast pale and ghostly beams,
Illuminating tragic dreams,
A broken swing swayed to and fro,
In the wind’s lament, soft and low.
Who lived within this haunted place?
What tragedies did time erase?
Their echoes lingered in the air,
A symphony of deep despair.
Whispers of the abandoned house in the gloom,
Silent as a tomb and dismal as a forgotten dream,
For in its walls, sour sorrows lingered,
Eternal night, no break of day.
The spirits roamed with heavy hearts,
Their stories were told in ghostly tales,
No peace, no rest, just endless roam,
Within this dark, forsaken home.
No amusement, no bliss, only anguish,
In this house where shadows reigned,
The final sigh, a whispered plea,
Bound to this haunted place for eternity.
A final lament, a last farewell,
In haunted thrills, the shadows dwelled,
No solace found no dawn to break,
Only endless nights and dreams awaken.
Esther Elizabeth Racah
