The manor door creeps open as the cold breeze shuffles red leaves.
Pale moon sneaks through the branches, it watches the lake breathe.
I walk to the old cemetery and learn every gravestone by heart.
The greenhouse keeps calling me, but my brain is covered in darts.
The pain pushes through the skull and breathes on my trembling spine,
I hear shadows in the distance whispering, “she is mine, mine, mine”.
Silky windows stare back at me like a nightmare encapsulated,
But every time I blink, the faces of the ghouls grow more faded.
And the manor door shuts behind me like a cold and sudden goodbye.
Dying stars stare back at my wide eyes, singing a haunting lullaby.
-JW
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 