The strange house stood still,

Deserted on the lonely scrupulous hill,

Surrounded by large mass of water,

Splashing violently against the granite stones.

 

Deep inside the dark passageway,

Were strange sounds of no description.

Emitting from the sparkling rocky wall,

Blurred smoky faces emerged from within,

Mouth wide open hideously,

Cries echoing from them.

 

A secret compartment with inscriptions,

Never been opened by a soul,

Since the existence of the newcomer,

Stared narrowly in diminishment.

 

Dramatic hollows of spotlight,

Danced around a creepy figurine ,

Shades of bright light,

Reflecting from the shadows.

Objects moved back and forth,

No wisdom of any being,

Is yet to crack the drama,

That exist timelessly,

In the strange house.

 

 

 

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