The old house

 Passion, fashion, distress 

The help, the happiness

 The bitterness 

Embedded in the walls 

The walls still standing 

The walls retain ears 

The house has not been tended for years

Before word leaks

Wild stories about the house

About the house almost being burned down 

About the house being the evil minds museum 

Someone had been living down there

Who knows how long ago or for how long?

The water still running in the washroom 

The winds still kind 

I feel heat

I feel the house’s heartbeat 

Someone’s in the house 

Skeptical and dubious 

Peeking behind the curtains 

I see my childhood, I see children 

Children transport us to our childhood 

The combats in the house I withstood 

Happiness? No, no, no, no

In this house even the turmoil was terrified 

In some places the walls moving 

My own house

I have been purified by the torment in the house

I listen to the voice inside the house

“I know I mistreated you in the past”

Revelry drowning out the cries of torment

My power grows with each phase of the moon

I am not saying that she is pretty 

This land, this house

She followed me in this life

Thou will follow me in the next

Mingle with the soil, entombed