
The letter arrived, no stamp, no name.
My grandfather died, but I feel no shame.
We were estranged, he disliked how I roam.
I read on to see that he’s left me a home,
It weighs in my hand, this unwanted gift,
All I’ve ever wanted was to float and drift.
I’m not all that’s left, why pass it to me?
Curiosity wins, I guess I’ll go see.
I arrive all alone,
Walk the path made of stone,
Open the door, it creaks and drones,
I step inside, the floor bends and moans.
The pictures inside, their eyes are too real,
It’s true art is subjective; I see not the appeal.
A broken doll stares, painted eyes accuse,
The house breathes secrets, tries to confuse.
The basement is wet and creepy,
I feel the urge to be quiet and sneaky.
There is but one clause: I must stay inside
For a full month, with nowhere to hide.
I knew the man hated me,
So, from the grave, he sent me a key
To this destitute place,
Everywhere I look, a new ghostly face
Finds me in silence,
Their eyes speak of violence.
Am I here to inherit?
Or avenge a broken spirit?
Why can’t I leave,
If not to appease
These horrified ghosts, desperate to grieve.
Their eyes are like wounds, hollow and gaunt,
The dead have long hands; this too shall haunt.
About the Creator
Steph Marie
I write web content professionally but I'd rather live off my fiction, somehow. I love all things spooky, thrilling, and mysterious. Gaming and my horses fill my non-writing free time <3
Insta @DreadfulLullaby



Comments (1)
Fabulous poem🌻🏆🌻✍️